Originally to have been the history of "The Quarters", an exclusive and infamous training school for discipline and obedience in San Francisco's South of Market area, managerial complications thwarted what would have been the first authentic look inside an ongoing dungeon . But you can't keep a good idea down, and "The Quarters" became THE COMPOUND—new officers, new recruits, new documentation of what is still a unique facility. And, after an invitation went out to original subjects who had received their training at the historic old Quarters, a good dose of the raw and ruthless beginnings are included. You are invited to come along with Drummer's photographers and Topmen, our DI's and writers for the whole schmear. Edited by Robert Payne himself. For December release.

Shaved, Pierced & Tattooed mistake hadn't been to come to this dive in the first place.

"I was contemplating my strapped-down and buckled arm and didn't notice Lew expertly slip around and secure the other one. I couldn't get up. You try getting out of a chair with your arms strapped down! He pulled a leather hood over my head and announced that I had too much hair around my monster cock; he said if he shaved it a bit it would look even bigger. And he reminded me that a wrong move might mean I would be singing soprano from now on…but shaving my crotch was only the beginning of a nightmare I will never forget…"

-from Shaved, Pierced & Tattooed, a Drummer super publication filled with true confessions and explosive fantasies about the rituals of shaving, piercing and tattooing.

By the time these pages are in your hands, HE AIN'T HEAVY, HE'S MY LOVER will be in the bookstores, our first book of cartoons , filled with the delightful humor of Carlo Carlucci. We've chosen a sampling of his work in the Drummer vein-his cartoons have appear everywhere from Manifest to The Advocate. However, the bulk of the cartoons in this book are being published for the first time.

The most devestatingly witty part of the book, a special section called "The War Between the Machos and the Sissies", is not to be missed. Mr. Carlucci certainly has our number and he has filled the pages of his book with it. You'll find yourself there too, we're sure.

F U C K B L O O D

To those men who still believe they are immune…

BLEEDING WITH JOY

Early last fall I ran into a handsome, sunburned man on Castro Street, a hunky city farmer, thorn-hairy rough, who turned me on, who turned me over, who plowed my field until it bled with joy, with pain. My body felt as if a thousand horses had run over it and furrowed me.

NORMAL

A week later, I returned to Normal, Illinois, to my lover, my teaching and my hothouse plants. Tried to revive the swollen, uncut cactus my boyfriend had almost killed with care while I was gone away. Then nearly spent myself blessing scores of freshmen essays with red ink. However, whenever deadlines-met gave both of us a chance to flee, we stalked dodos and unicorns, licked memories and dreams, danced naked under trees at noon, at night.

SCRAPS OF PRESS REPORTS

And then, one day, it dawned on me that the hunky stranger, whose name I never knew, had dropped deathly seeds into my earth.

First I threw up disbelief, then anger, rage; drooled guilt, self-pity, fear, before I fought deficiencies, immunities, communities, before I tried to heal myself.

But all in vain, it seemed. My body's rotting now: thistledown is growing on my throat, purple flowers eat my skin. Right now I live on scraps of press, reports, on jargon food, on drugs which turn all seasons into one; too weak to kick up further fuss, too strong to go.

On the other hand, my friends no longer scapegoat me; instead, they write, or call, or organize. But most of all, I have survived on baskets of my boyfriend's love whose loyalty has brought silver linings to his hair.

THE MASTER

Then, suddenly, everything changed: Late last night, my lover had just left, the sun-burned leather god, bract-hairy, rough, forced his way into my private room at the Mercy Hospital Center.

"Turn over, buddy," he said, "I've come to get you. Now. You're mine. For good."

"What the hell…?" I wanted to shout, but only thistle fluff flew out of my mouth.

"Hurry up, boy," the Master urged and walked straight toward my bed.

I saw frost on his sunglasses and instantly I knew that my minutes, my seconds of grace were running out. That moment an earthquake hit my brain; I felt old fuckblood turn to wine. "No," I said with all my voice, "I am, I am not yours. So help me God. So help me…God."

"Die down, sucker. Smell the ground. You don't need God no more," he grinned, "I've come." He turned, removed his cap, unzipped his jeans, switched off the light. "For the last time, sweet ass, turn over." He dropped his boots, his voice: "Don't waste my time. I have to work fast lanes again. Lost souls. The usual shit. You know."

Stillness filled the dark. Silence. Except for the sound of black leather hitting the floor. The intimate stranger moved closer, bent over me. I felt his grip, his breath: "Remember, babe," he said, "hope and death are risks that must be run by all of you."

Martin Thomas

I was straight, and that was one thing I was sure of. I had a girl that I was almost engaged to, and that proved something, didn't it? Even if she and I hadn't gone all the way; well, she wasn't that kind of girl! I had no doubt whatsoever that I was straight, and no two ways about it!

I was almost as sure of that as I was that the war in 'Nam was a crock of shit and that I couldn't, wouldn't, in any good conscience , take any part in it. -Or in any kind of killing and maiming and butchery.

Well then, what was I doing in the Navy?

That was a question I had asked myself again and again as I sat on my bunk, waiting for the commander of my ship to call for me. I was in the Navy, and what I was doing was against the tradition of the services for more than a hundred years. What would they do to me?

That question was the one I was really asking myself. Every guy who has ever been in the service has heard tales of what happens to men in the Brig. Most of the stories are as much a crock as the war. But there are some of them that persist, and some of them are scarier than others. That's why I was worried, not only what they would do to me on an official level, but what might happen not-so-officially. One of the guys aboard ship told me that he had been in the Brig, and that the only way to survive was to roll with the punches and swing whatever way they wanted you to swing.

That was fine for him to say! He made no bones about what he did at sea when there were no women around and there was nobody watching. But I was straight! And not only that, I was still, technically, a virgin—something nobody else on the ship knew, and that I didn't want to get around. I had a bad enough reputation for deciding, just when they were finished training me and ready to get some of their money back, to become a conscientious objector.

I sat there cursing myself for being the dumbest guy who ever lived, and probably the easiest to push around. My father had pushed me, my mother had pushed me, and instead of fighting back, I just did what seemed easiest at the time. But as I got older I got tired of it, and I started looking for a way out.

Now the average kid of sixteen would look for a job in a gas station, and when he found it, he would start looking for a place of his own. But not me! I decided to become a priest! And

They were not! They thought the world of all the priests in the world, but to have a son of theirs a celibate and not carry on the family name was going too far. That was the first real satisfaction I ever got out of them: the way they blew up when I told them I was going to do something they had always indicated would be a wonderful thing, not only for me, but for them.

But it got me away from home. There were ten states between me and my parents, and I thought it was paradise for the first two weeks. Then the old gonads started to ache, and I realized that for a boy just turning seventeen, masturbation is not only a necessity, it's a way of life. I coped as best I could, but my confessor got tougher and tougher on the penances, and I started to realize that not only wasn't I physically ready for the rigors of celibacy, I was beginning to doubt the whole theology that required it of me.

I held on for nearly a year at the seminary, but my body got stronger and my faith got weaker. It was war between the father superior and me, and finally the old buzzard decided I wasn't worth the effort and kicked me out.

That left two alternatives. I could go home in shame, or I could find a job. Not being trained in anything but praying, jobs were scarce. My self-confidence was pretty low, too. That was why the big poster and the TV ads telling me how I could learn a trade and see the world in the Navy started looking attractive. Being dumb and easy to push, I joined.

And my parents who were always so patriotic it made me want to puke, were they happy? They were not! They didn't figure they had raised a son just so he could go off and get killed! Why couldn't I have done like the boy down the street, and got the local Quakers to say I was a conscientious objector?

I realized, as I turned eighteen, that my parents were hypocrites . Worse, that practically everybody was. And worse than that, that I wasn't and had no desire to be.

The Navy started out pretty good for me. I liked boot camp in San Diego, and I started to take an interest in my body, which I now realized was pretty good. 'A swimmer's body,' one of my instructors called it. And when I got out of boot camp, I found it was easy to throw myself into learning my new career. I was training aboard a destroyer tender to be a molder, and the smell of hot steel and other molten metals was one I liked.

I made petty officer, third class before my good old conscience got in the way. By that time I had enough free time that I could watch the news and read the papers; and what I saw appalled me. World War II was one thing: napalming little kids was another. I ended up hanging around with a vociferous anti-war crowd aboard ship, a new phenomenon in the Navy of those days; and before I knew it, I was marked as a troublemaker.

Even so, on my own I would probably have never done anything more than gripe if it hadn't been for a party one Saturday night. I got so drunk that I made a speech about how we should all quit, and somebody talked me into putting in for a discharge to see if it would work. I didn't even remember the letter until the Old Man called me in, livid and wanting to know what the hell I thought I was doing.

And even then I could have got out of it just by apologizing and withdrawing the letter and saying it was something I'd done when I was drunk.

But the Old Man was a lot of things rolled up into one. He looked a lot like my father, and he talked a lot like the father superior at the seminary, and something in me just would not knuckle under one more time. I got mad, and I told him I was sticking to my guns, and that tore it.

The next month was hell on water. I pulled extra watches at odd hours. I got extra duties that I knew damn well should have gone to somebody else. Finally I got the flu, and even the medic said I should be in bed. But the Old Man continued his persecutions , and one night, in a fever, I walked off a watch.

Slam! I was under arrest and confined to quarters until they decided what to do with me.

In desperation I wrote a letter to my congressman, that being the only thing I could think of. Hal Rosenblum was at that time considered the nation's hope by the New Left. He was a vigorous campaigner for civil rights and he had spoken openly in Congress against the war. I figured if anybody could help me, he could!

But once the letter was mailed, my last bolt was shot! I knew the military regulations well enough to know that if I persisted I would get my discharge, and that it would be honorable. But how long would I have to persist? And what would I have to go through first?

My answer came too soon.

A message arrived that the Old Man wanted to see me in his quarters in half an hour sharp.

Well, this is it! I thought. Then I realized I was soaking wet with perspiration. I grabbed a dress uniform and headed down to the showers, figuring that it wouldn't be much of a grandstand if I arrived looking like a drowned dog.

The water cooled me off and restored a little of my calm. As I dressed I checked myself out in the mirror, making sure I was shaved and all that.

I was a pretty good-looking kid, I estimated. Blond, with blue eyes. A grin that more than one girl had told me was nice. That 'swimmer's body;' not bulging with muscles, but compact and solid and well-proportioned. I had a nice mat of hair on the upper part of my chest, from just below the nipples on up to the hollow of my throat. A fine line of hair went down the middle of my not-quite-washboard stomach and spread out below my navel into a luxuriant but soft bush around my genitals. My cock was not the biggest one on board ship; but it wasn't small either, and my balls hung down nicely below it. I figured that some day my almost-fiance would have a tough time taking it!

I dressed and headed up to the officer's quarters, and tried to keep my mind off whatever might be coming.

Something turned over in my stomach when I walked in and closed the door behind me. The Old Man was seated behind his desk looking at some papers, but there were three Marines in the room as well: military police, all decked out to the teeth with weapons sticks and leather, and that bothered me. If there is anything in the world a sailor doesn't enjoy seeing, it's a Marine MP.

We went through the usual formalities; then the Old Man got right down to business.

'I've got two pieces of paper in front of me," he said. "One of them is a form all made out in your name, requesting that your request for discharge be dropped. If you sign it, you'll finish your hitch just the way you signed up for, and that will be that. If you refuse to sign it, we'll have to go through the whole procee-dure of the discharge, and during that time you will be remanded to the custody of these men and live in the Brig, ashore. -That's what the other piece of paper is; the orders turning you over to them.'

"Thank you, Sir," I said, "but I still want the discharge."

The Old Man leaned back in his chair and fixed me with a look that sent chills up my spine. It wasn't precisely malevolent, but there was evil in it; and, what really shook me up, there was humor in it too!

"Before you make that decision," he said, "I want you to know just what it entails. These men are not just military police. They are a special force carefully trained to deal with cases like yours. It will be eight weeks minimum before all the paperwork on your discharge comes through. During that time you will be totally in their keeping. This country has had your kind before. We haven't lasted this long without learning how to deal with them!'

My heart had begun to pound, and I had flashes running across my mind of all the horror stories that I had ever heard of the Brig. But if I gave in now, I realized, the rest of my hitch would be almost as bad as whatever they had planned for me. I could not imagine at that moment that the United States Government would allow anything really monstrous to happen in its prisons. —But I was pretty young, and pretty stupid!

'Sergeant," the Old Man said, "tell this boy what he should do."

The Marine sergeant was standing immediately to my left and a little closer to the Old Man than I was, so I could see his face clearly as he stood in place and spoke. He and the two corporals with him were all a head taller than I was, and they had broad shoulders and muscles that bulged through their uniforms. Their physical stature alone was intimidating, but the cruel smile that played about the sergeant's lips as he spoke, the glint in his jet black eyes, and the depth and security of his powerful voice were terrifying. He didn't raise his deep voice, but almost whispered as he spoke.

NEMACONFICENTAL

BEAUTIFULLY REPRODUCED IN AN UNBOUND PORTFOLIO OF NINE 111 / 2" x 171 / 2" OFFSET LITHOGRAPHS READY FOR FRAMING. These were the last original Joe Johnson prints and are catalogued in New York as a $45 value. The remaining sets are being offered at 24.95 plus $1 postage and handling. California residents add 6% sales tax.

SAN FRANCISCO, CA 94107

"You should sign the form, and go back to being a petty officer, third class. It'll break you, and you'll know you've been broken; but you'll still be able to call yourself a man after you get out. If you get turned over to us, you'll not only get broken, you'll lose whatever right to call yourself a man you have. That conscience that you value so highly will go right down the drain.'

What the sergeant said wasn't a threat; it was a promise. He didn't say it like a man planning to do something. He said it like a man who has done it, over and over. I swallowed, and I thought they must all be able to hear my heart pounding.

But it wouldn't do any good to pull out now, I told myself. It was the difference between eight weeks of hell and three years of it. If I could last through whatever they had in mind, I would be out, for once and for all. Further, I could tell the world about it. Let that fall down around their ears!

"I'd still like my discharge, Sir!" I said.

I was frightened, sure! Who wouldn't be? But competing inside me with the fear was something else. I naively half-imagined myself to be like the freedom riders who were putting their lives on the line in Georgia and Mississippi. Like the demonstrators who were matching their passive resistance against the lines of troops trying to get in and out of Port Chicago. Whatever happened to me, I knew there would be a hero's welcome when I got out, and I would be able to strike a tremendous blow for justice!

How stupid can a kid get?

The Old Man signed the papers, the sergeant signed some papers for him, and I marched out behind the sergeant and the two corporals on my way to the Brig.

Nobody spoke until we got to the military prison, a grey, crumbling cement building that was probably put up during World War I, and which should have been torn down before Pearl Harbor. I was marched into an office where a Marine lieutenant looked over my papers, then swore under his breath.

"Shit! A God-damned conshy!"

He looked at the sergeant, then looked me up and down with disgust.

"I hope you boys have fun with him!" he said.

There were more formalities; then I was marched into another room with a stack of strongboxes on one side and a lot of shelves stacked with clothing on the other.

"Strip!" the sergeant said.

I did as I was told and the man behind the counter took all my clothes, except my boots, and all my valuables, filled out a form describing them, got me to sign it, then locked everything in one of the strongboxes. He asked me my sizes, then fetched prison clothing for me. A pair of socks, a pair of dungarees, a pair of standard boxer shorts, and a white teeshirt with BRIG stenciled on the back in big, black block letters.

'Put those on!" the sergeant ordered, still in that menacing, quiet voice, but with the snap of a drill sergeant in it.

I dressed and we marched out.

Past a couple of cell blocks where about fifteen men each were imprisoned. Past a row of cells with one or two men each. Past some cells where there was only one man each. Then, out of the area with open cells and down a long, long corridor with just steel doors on either side.

We turned a corner, went through a door, and were in an open, galvanized metal shower room. There were only three showers, and on one side there was a laundry bin, on the other a shelf with towels and clothing.

"Strip!" the sergeant said again. "And throw your dirty clothes in that bin!'

I almost laughed. It seemed such a stupid thing. I had just put on the fresh clothes. But there are three ways of doing things, and the military way is the dumbest.

Then it occured to me that what I was about to get might not be a shower. This was a distant, and as far as I could tell, an empty part of the building. My mouth went dry.

"I just put these on…" I stammered, but the sergeant cut me off.

"Shut up!" he said softly. "And when you speak to me, if you ever have reason to speak to me, first say: Sir! Yes, Sir!, and when you've finished speaking, say, Sir, again."

He had that damned smile on his lips, and suddenly I was mad as hell. I smiled back at him, my most boyish, irrepressible grin, and said: "Sergeant, I'm not sure I quite remember the way the ranks work, but is a Marine sergeant superior to a Navy petty officer, third class?"

His smile didn't waver, but he gestured to indicate our surroundings.

"Here it is," he said. "Now strip!"

I did as I was told, terrified, wondering what they were going to do to me. As soon as I had my clothes off, however, one of the corporals turned on the water, told me to adjust it myself, then all three stepped back and the sergeant told me to shower.

I thought at that moment it was the scariest shower I'd ever had. More so than the one at camp, when I was a kid, where you had to do it in the dark for an initiation and they told you there were snakes that hung around under the showers. I finished, took a towel, and dried myself off. As I finished a bundle of clothes hit me in the face and the sergeant told me to dress again, and then we marched off again, deeper into the dim corridors of the prison.

The last corridor we came to had no doors at the sides, only one at the end, and it was to this one that I was taken. It was a steel door with a little steel window in it and a trap at the bottom for sliding food in. There were bolts at three places on it, and the sergeant opened it for me to go in. "This is where you'll live for the next eight weeks," he said. "You'll get three meals a day. The morning meal will be a little late, because you'll have a session with us before breakfast every comes, so you stay on schedule.'

He stopped talking, so there was nothing else for me to do. I walked through the door into the cell. The door slammed behind me with a clang, and in a momentary flashback to my days at the seminary I thought: "I'm in the hands of the Inquisition!"

The cell was small and had no windows. There was a ventilator in the ceiling, and a heat duct, and a flourescent light behind glass that had wire in it, so it couldn't be broken. There was a cot with a pillow and blankets, and a sink with hot and cold water, and a toilet that had had the seat removed.

It wasn't as bad as I had imagined, but it wasn't the Ritz, either. It had been morning when I left the ship and checked in at the Brig, so I figured the first meal they slid under the door was lunch. Actually, it looked more like the bilges with sawdust added, and that from me who had never been critical of military cooking; not after my mother! But I ate it, and it wasn't bad. That is, it wasn't nasty. It was flavorless! A sort of porridge, with a glass of something that wasn't water, but wasn't anything else either, to drink.

I figured the first thing I would have to do was figure out how not to be bored between whatever ominous 'sessions' the sergeant had in mind for me. There was no one to talk to. There was nothing to read, not even on the white-washed walls. The room was even warm enough, so I couldn't pretend I was a monk in a cold monastery. I tried praying, but that turned out to be a bad idea. The only thing I ended up praying for was deliverance from the Brig, and that only served to strengthen my fears.

By suppertime I knew the boredom was going to be bad, so I tried to focus my interest on the food. But it was the same thing as lunch, only more of it. That was when I knew the boredom was going to be bad, and the food a major part of the boredom.

I lay down on my cot and decided that I would work on my talent for daydreaming. Every kid in the world gets told he's no good because he daydreams too much. Maybe this was my chance to make use of an otherwise useless talent!

After I'd gone through my whole life at least twice, I began to wonder when they were going to turn the lights off. And after I'd

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Please state that you are over 21 and wish to receive this material.

gone through my whole life ten more times, I realized they weren't going to. By then I was tired, so I went to sleep.

I was awakened by a churning in my guts and a very sudden call to nature. I got to the toilet and my lunch and dinner in a pretty much unchanged form, it seemed to me, exploded out of my ass. I always hated those kinds of sudden diarrhoeas, and cursed the cooks in the Brig, then the Marines, then the Old Man. When the seige was over I got back in bed and drew the covers up, but I was barely asleep when I heard the bolts of the door shot and the door opened.

"Get up!" the sergeant barked.

Had the whole night passed? Usually I was just about ready to get up when it was time to get up. Maybe the schedule at the Brig was different, I noted, climbing up, still dressed.

'Come on," the sergeant said, his voice now back to normal. I left my cell and there I was, back between the same two corporals, behind the sergeant, marching down the grey corridors . They took me to the shower room and once again I was required to strip and shower. But this time as I finished drying myself off, the sergeant said: "Look at me!"

He was standing directly in front of me, and I did as I was told. "Parade rest!" he said.

I took the required position, hands behind my back, legs apart.

One of the corporals stepped on into the shower stall and turned on the water again. He adjusted it so that it poured down my back, the top of the spray hitting at my neck, the rest on my back and butt.

The water poured down for a long time, then I noticed that it was slowly getting hotter. The sergeant stood there in front of me, silent, with that damned smile playing on his lips and in his black eyes. The water got hotter and hotter. I knew now what the first game was going to be, and I determined to beat it. I stared him straight in the eyes and held on as the water became scalding. My back, my hands, my ass, all were screaming with the pain of the searing water. Clouds of steam rose up all around me, and the sweat trickled down into my eyes and burned. But I wasn't going to give in!

Finally the sergeant nodded and the water stopped. The second corporal threw the towel at me and I nearly fumbled it, so great was the relief of not being burned any more and so shaky was I. I was ordered to dry myself and dress, and then I was marched back to my cell, and the first ordeal was over.

But as I went through the door, the sergeant said as quietly as always: "Eight weeks!"

And with sudden and full comprehension, I understood what he meant. He didn't have to do anything with me quickly. He had eight full weeks in which to break me, and he meant to do it slowly and completely!

Excerpt from The Brig a novel by Mason Powell, published by Alternate Publishing, Copyright 1983, all rights reserved.

If you were there on Leather's big night you saw it for yourself. And we hope you were given a program along with a hard-on. So what do you need another program for, you ask? This is the updated, supplemented, added-to program with the winner(s) in all their nude glory, what happened backstage, offstage and in all the stages. of getting aquainted that weekend.

Filled with exclusive photos by the army of photographers covering the big event and the parties before and after. The snakes, the cakes, the chains and the watermelon along with the stars of the show. Photos that can't appear in DRUMMER.

It was a night to remember, certainly one we'll never forget. The super extra-pages program will be a collectors' item.

While they last,

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NAME ADDRESS

CITY, STATE, ZIP

(I am 21 or over)

I was straight, and that was one thing I was sure of. I had a girl that I was almost engaged to, and that proved something, didn't it? Even if she and I hadn't gone all the way; well, she wasn't that kind of girl! I had no doubt whatsoever that I was straight, and no two ways about it!

I was almost as sure of that as I was that the war in 'Nam was a crock of shit and that I couldn't, wouldn't, in any good conscience , take any part in it. -Or in any kind of killing and maiming and butchery.

Well then, what was I doing in the Navy?

That was a question I had asked myself again and again as I sat on my bunk, waiting for the commander of my ship to call for me. I was in the Navy, and what I was doing was against the tradition of the services for more than a hundred years. What would they do to me?

That question was the one I was really asking myself. Every guy who has ever been in the service has heard tales of what happens to men in the Brig. Most of the stories are as much a crock as the war. But there are some of them that persist, and some of them are scarier than others. That's why I was worried, not only what they would do to me on an official level, but what might happen not-so-officially. One of the guys aboard ship told me that he had been in the Brig, and that the only way to survive was to roll with the punches and swing whatever way they wanted you to swing.

That was fine for him to say! He made no bones about what he did at sea when there were no women around and there was nobody watching. But I was straight! And not only that, I was still, technically, a virgin—something nobody else on the ship knew, and that I didn't want to get around. I had a bad enough reputation for deciding, just when they were finished training me and ready to get some of their money back, to become a conscientious objector.

I sat there cursing myself for being the dumbest guy who ever lived, and probably the easiest to push around. My father had pushed me, my mother had pushed me, and instead of fighting back, I just did what seemed easiest at the time. But as I got older I got tired of it, and I started looking for a way out.

Now the average kid of sixteen would look for a job in a gas station, and when he found it, he would start looking for a place of his own. But not me! I decided to become a priest! And

They were not! They thought the world of all the priests in the world, but to have a son of theirs a celibate and not carry on the family name was going too far. That was the first real satisfaction I ever got out of them: the way they blew up when I told them I was going to do something they had always indicated would be a wonderful thing, not only for me, but for them.

But it got me away from home. There were ten states between me and my parents, and I thought it was paradise for the first two weeks. Then the old gonads started to ache, and I realized that for a boy just turning seventeen, masturbation is not only a necessity, it's a way of life. I coped as best I could, but my confessor got tougher and tougher on the penances, and I started to realize that not only wasn't I physically ready for the rigors of celibacy, I was beginning to doubt the whole theology that required it of me.

I held on for nearly a year at the seminary, but my body got stronger and my faith got weaker. It was war between the father superior and me, and finally the old buzzard decided I wasn't worth the effort and kicked me out.

That left two alternatives. I could go home in shame, or I could find a job. Not being trained in anything but praying, jobs were scarce. My self-confidence was pretty low, too. That was why the big poster and the TV ads telling me how I could learn a trade and see the world in the Navy started looking attractive. Being dumb and easy to push, I joined.

And my parents who were always so patriotic it made me want to puke, were they happy? They were not! They didn't figure they had raised a son just so he could go off and get killed! Why couldn't I have done like the boy down the street, and got the local Quakers to say I was a conscientious objector?

I realized, as I turned eighteen, that my parents were hypocrites . Worse, that practically everybody was. And worse than that, that I wasn't and had no desire to be.

The Navy started out pretty good for me. I liked boot camp in San Diego, and I started to take an interest in my body, which I now realized was pretty good. 'A swimmer's body,' one of my instructors called it. And when I got out of boot camp, I found it was easy to throw myself into learning my new career. I was training aboard a destroyer tender to be a molder, and the smell of hot steel and other molten metals was one I liked.

I made petty officer, third class before my good old conscience got in the way. By that time I had enough free time that I could watch the news and read the papers; and what I saw appalled me. World War II was one thing: napalming little kids was another. I ended up hanging around with a vociferous anti-war crowd aboard ship, a new phenomenon in the Navy of those days; and before I knew it, I was marked as a troublemaker.

Even so, on my own I would probably have never done anything more than gripe if it hadn't been for a party one Saturday night. I got so drunk that I made a speech about how we should all quit, and somebody talked me into putting in for a discharge to see if it would work. I didn't even remember the letter until the Old Man called me in, livid and wanting to know what the hell I thought I was doing.

And even then I could have got out of it just by apologizing and withdrawing the letter and saying it was something I'd done when I was drunk.

But the Old Man was a lot of things rolled up into one. He looked a lot like my father, and he talked a lot like the father superior at the seminary, and something in me just would not knuckle under one more time. I got mad, and I told him I was sticking to my guns, and that tore it.

The next month was hell on water. I pulled extra watches at odd hours. I got extra duties that I knew damn well should have gone to somebody else. Finally I got the flu, and even the medic said I should be in bed. But the Old Man continued his persecutions , and one night, in a fever, I walked off a watch.

Slam! I was under arrest and confined to quarters until they decided what to do with me.

In desperation I wrote a letter to my congressman, that being the only thing I could think of. Hal Rosenblum was at that time considered the nation's hope by the New Left. He was a vigorous campaigner for civil rights and he had spoken openly in Congress against the war. I figured if anybody could help me, he could!

But once the letter was mailed, my last bolt was shot! I knew the military regulations well enough to know that if I persisted I would get my discharge, and that it would be honorable. But how long would I have to persist? And what would I have to go through first?

My answer came too soon.

A message arrived that the Old Man wanted to see me in his quarters in half an hour sharp.

Well, this is it! I thought. Then I realized I was soaking wet with perspiration. I grabbed a dress uniform and headed down to the showers, figuring that it wouldn't be much of a grandstand if I arrived looking like a drowned dog.

The water cooled me off and restored a little of my calm. As I dressed I checked myself out in the mirror, making sure I was shaved and all that.

I was a pretty good-looking kid, I estimated. Blond, with blue eyes. A grin that more than one girl had told me was nice. That 'swimmer's body;' not bulging with muscles, but compact and solid and well-proportioned. I had a nice mat of hair on the upper part of my chest, from just below the nipples on up to the hollow of my throat. A fine line of hair went down the middle of my not-quite-washboard stomach and spread out below my navel into a luxuriant but soft bush around my genitals. My cock was not the biggest one on board ship; but it wasn't small either, and my balls hung down nicely below it. I figured that some day my almost-fiance would have a tough time taking it!

I dressed and headed up to the officer's quarters, and tried to keep my mind off whatever might be coming.

Something turned over in my stomach when I walked in and closed the door behind me. The Old Man was seated behind his desk looking at some papers, but there were three Marines in the room as well: military police, all decked out to the teeth with weapons sticks and leather, and that bothered me. If there is anything in the world a sailor doesn't enjoy seeing, it's a Marine MP.

We went through the usual formalities; then the Old Man got right down to business.

'I've got two pieces of paper in front of me," he said. "One of them is a form all made out in your name, requesting that your request for discharge be dropped. If you sign it, you'll finish your hitch just the way you signed up for, and that will be that. If you refuse to sign it, we'll have to go through the whole procee-dure of the discharge, and during that time you will be remanded to the custody of these men and live in the Brig, ashore. -That's what the other piece of paper is; the orders turning you over to them.'

"Thank you, Sir," I said, "but I still want the discharge."

The Old Man leaned back in his chair and fixed me with a look that sent chills up my spine. It wasn't precisely malevolent, but there was evil in it; and, what really shook me up, there was humor in it too!

"Before you make that decision," he said, "I want you to know just what it entails. These men are not just military police. They are a special force carefully trained to deal with cases like yours. It will be eight weeks minimum before all the paperwork on your discharge comes through. During that time you will be totally in their keeping. This country has had your kind before. We haven't lasted this long without learning how to deal with them!'

My heart had begun to pound, and I had flashes running across my mind of all the horror stories that I had ever heard of the Brig. But if I gave in now, I realized, the rest of my hitch would be almost as bad as whatever they had planned for me. I could not imagine at that moment that the United States Government would allow anything really monstrous to happen in its prisons. —But I was pretty young, and pretty stupid!

'Sergeant," the Old Man said, "tell this boy what he should do."

The Marine sergeant was standing immediately to my left and a little closer to the Old Man than I was, so I could see his face clearly as he stood in place and spoke. He and the two corporals with him were all a head taller than I was, and they had broad shoulders and muscles that bulged through their uniforms. Their physical stature alone was intimidating, but the cruel smile that played about the sergeant's lips as he spoke, the glint in his jet black eyes, and the depth and security of his powerful voice were terrifying. He didn't raise his deep voice, but almost whispered as he spoke.

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"You should sign the form, and go back to being a petty officer, third class. It'll break you, and you'll know you've been broken; but you'll still be able to call yourself a man after you get out. If you get turned over to us, you'll not only get broken, you'll lose whatever right to call yourself a man you have. That conscience that you value so highly will go right down the drain.'

What the sergeant said wasn't a threat; it was a promise. He didn't say it like a man planning to do something. He said it like a man who has done it, over and over. I swallowed, and I thought they must all be able to hear my heart pounding.

But it wouldn't do any good to pull out now, I told myself. It was the difference between eight weeks of hell and three years of it. If I could last through whatever they had in mind, I would be out, for once and for all. Further, I could tell the world about it. Let that fall down around their ears!

"I'd still like my discharge, Sir!" I said.

I was frightened, sure! Who wouldn't be? But competing inside me with the fear was something else. I naively half-imagined myself to be like the freedom riders who were putting their lives on the line in Georgia and Mississippi. Like the demonstrators who were matching their passive resistance against the lines of troops trying to get in and out of Port Chicago. Whatever happened to me, I knew there would be a hero's welcome when I got out, and I would be able to strike a tremendous blow for justice!

How stupid can a kid get?

The Old Man signed the papers, the sergeant signed some papers for him, and I marched out behind the sergeant and the two corporals on my way to the Brig.

Nobody spoke until we got to the military prison, a grey, crumbling cement building that was probably put up during World War I, and which should have been torn down before Pearl Harbor. I was marched into an office where a Marine lieutenant looked over my papers, then swore under his breath.

"Shit! A God-damned conshy!"

He looked at the sergeant, then looked me up and down with disgust.

"I hope you boys have fun with him!" he said.

There were more formalities; then I was marched into another room with a stack of strongboxes on one side and a lot of shelves stacked with clothing on the other.

"Strip!" the sergeant said.

I did as I was told and the man behind the counter took all my clothes, except my boots, and all my valuables, filled out a form describing them, got me to sign it, then locked everything in one of the strongboxes. He asked me my sizes, then fetched prison clothing for me. A pair of socks, a pair of dungarees, a pair of standard boxer shorts, and a white teeshirt with BRIG stenciled on the back in big, black block letters.

'Put those on!" the sergeant ordered, still in that menacing, quiet voice, but with the snap of a drill sergeant in it.

I dressed and we marched out.

Past a couple of cell blocks where about fifteen men each were imprisoned. Past a row of cells with one or two men each. Past some cells where there was only one man each. Then, out of the area with open cells and down a long, long corridor with just steel doors on either side.

We turned a corner, went through a door, and were in an open, galvanized metal shower room. There were only three showers, and on one side there was a laundry bin, on the other a shelf with towels and clothing.

"Strip!" the sergeant said again. "And throw your dirty clothes in that bin!'

I almost laughed. It seemed such a stupid thing. I had just put on the fresh clothes. But there are three ways of doing things, and the military way is the dumbest.

Then it occured to me that what I was about to get might not be a shower. This was a distant, and as far as I could tell, an empty part of the building. My mouth went dry.

"I just put these on…" I stammered, but the sergeant cut me off.

"Shut up!" he said softly. "And when you speak to me, if you ever have reason to speak to me, first say: Sir! Yes, Sir!, and when you've finished speaking, say, Sir, again."

He had that damned smile on his lips, and suddenly I was mad as hell. I smiled back at him, my most boyish, irrepressible grin, and said: "Sergeant, I'm not sure I quite remember the way the ranks work, but is a Marine sergeant superior to a Navy petty officer, third class?"

His smile didn't waver, but he gestured to indicate our surroundings.

"Here it is," he said. "Now strip!"

I did as I was told, terrified, wondering what they were going to do to me. As soon as I had my clothes off, however, one of the corporals turned on the water, told me to adjust it myself, then all three stepped back and the sergeant told me to shower.

I thought at that moment it was the scariest shower I'd ever had. More so than the one at camp, when I was a kid, where you had to do it in the dark for an initiation and they told you there were snakes that hung around under the showers. I finished, took a towel, and dried myself off. As I finished a bundle of clothes hit me in the face and the sergeant told me to dress again, and then we marched off again, deeper into the dim corridors of the prison.

The last corridor we came to had no doors at the sides, only one at the end, and it was to this one that I was taken. It was a steel door with a little steel window in it and a trap at the bottom for sliding food in. There were bolts at three places on it, and the sergeant opened it for me to go in. "This is where you'll live for the next eight weeks," he said. "You'll get three meals a day. The morning meal will be a little late, because you'll have a session with us before breakfast every comes, so you stay on schedule.'

He stopped talking, so there was nothing else for me to do. I walked through the door into the cell. The door slammed behind me with a clang, and in a momentary flashback to my days at the seminary I thought: "I'm in the hands of the Inquisition!"

The cell was small and had no windows. There was a ventilator in the ceiling, and a heat duct, and a flourescent light behind glass that had wire in it, so it couldn't be broken. There was a cot with a pillow and blankets, and a sink with hot and cold water, and a toilet that had had the seat removed.

It wasn't as bad as I had imagined, but it wasn't the Ritz, either. It had been morning when I left the ship and checked in at the Brig, so I figured the first meal they slid under the door was lunch. Actually, it looked more like the bilges with sawdust added, and that from me who had never been critical of military cooking; not after my mother! But I ate it, and it wasn't bad. That is, it wasn't nasty. It was flavorless! A sort of porridge, with a glass of something that wasn't water, but wasn't anything else either, to drink.

I figured the first thing I would have to do was figure out how not to be bored between whatever ominous 'sessions' the sergeant had in mind for me. There was no one to talk to. There was nothing to read, not even on the white-washed walls. The room was even warm enough, so I couldn't pretend I was a monk in a cold monastery. I tried praying, but that turned out to be a bad idea. The only thing I ended up praying for was deliverance from the Brig, and that only served to strengthen my fears.

By suppertime I knew the boredom was going to be bad, so I tried to focus my interest on the food. But it was the same thing as lunch, only more of it. That was when I knew the boredom was going to be bad, and the food a major part of the boredom.

I lay down on my cot and decided that I would work on my talent for daydreaming. Every kid in the world gets told he's no good because he daydreams too much. Maybe this was my chance to make use of an otherwise useless talent!

After I'd gone through my whole life at least twice, I began to wonder when they were going to turn the lights off. And after I'd

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gone through my whole life ten more times, I realized they weren't going to. By then I was tired, so I went to sleep.

I was awakened by a churning in my guts and a very sudden call to nature. I got to the toilet and my lunch and dinner in a pretty much unchanged form, it seemed to me, exploded out of my ass. I always hated those kinds of sudden diarrhoeas, and cursed the cooks in the Brig, then the Marines, then the Old Man. When the seige was over I got back in bed and drew the covers up, but I was barely asleep when I heard the bolts of the door shot and the door opened.

"Get up!" the sergeant barked.

Had the whole night passed? Usually I was just about ready to get up when it was time to get up. Maybe the schedule at the Brig was different, I noted, climbing up, still dressed.

'Come on," the sergeant said, his voice now back to normal. I left my cell and there I was, back between the same two corporals, behind the sergeant, marching down the grey corridors . They took me to the shower room and once again I was required to strip and shower. But this time as I finished drying myself off, the sergeant said: "Look at me!"

He was standing directly in front of me, and I did as I was told. "Parade rest!" he said.

I took the required position, hands behind my back, legs apart.

One of the corporals stepped on into the shower stall and turned on the water again. He adjusted it so that it poured down my back, the top of the spray hitting at my neck, the rest on my back and butt.

The water poured down for a long time, then I noticed that it was slowly getting hotter. The sergeant stood there in front of me, silent, with that damned smile playing on his lips and in his black eyes. The water got hotter and hotter. I knew now what the first game was going to be, and I determined to beat it. I stared him straight in the eyes and held on as the water became scalding. My back, my hands, my ass, all were screaming with the pain of the searing water. Clouds of steam rose up all around me, and the sweat trickled down into my eyes and burned. But I wasn't going to give in!

Finally the sergeant nodded and the water stopped. The second corporal threw the towel at me and I nearly fumbled it, so great was the relief of not being burned any more and so shaky was I. I was ordered to dry myself and dress, and then I was marched back to my cell, and the first ordeal was over.

But as I went through the door, the sergeant said as quietly as always: "Eight weeks!"

And with sudden and full comprehension, I understood what he meant. He didn't have to do anything with me quickly. He had eight full weeks in which to break me, and he meant to do it slowly and completely!

Excerpt from The Brig a novel by Mason Powell, published by Alternate Publishing, Copyright 1983, all rights reserved.

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Waves Like Evil Angels On a Cold Black Tide by Tim Barrus

On the bad nights sleep comes to him slowly. I had to hold him naked in my arms. The voices were getting worse. He'd broken out in a feverish sweat. I held his damp head against my chest. I slowly ran my fingers through his thick dark hair. His dreams came in waves like evil angels on a cold black tide.

Miguel hadn"t been hearing the voices for a coulple of months. I thought that perhaps we were into some kind of remission. The night they came back I wanted to beat the shit out of him. I held on tightly instead.

He knew that it was going to be a difficult night. Earler in the evening he'd begged me to fuck him. Our scenes together could be like ritualistic purges. As if being fucked hard enough, forefully enough…would drive the voices out. Sometimes it did.

"Fuck me, Tim." His large soft brown eyes seemed troubled and intense. It was a request that I had heard before.

I had him lay down and I stripped him. I straddled his round brown ass and deeply massaged his strong muscular back. Massage always seemed to help.

My fingers slowly found their way into his tight hairless rectum and slowly worked their way into him loosening him up. I lubricated my cock and was about to slowly penetrate his asshole when Miguel suddenly lifted up his hips and took my hard thick cock into his hole in one unexpected gulp.

"I said fuck me, Tim. Now fuck me."

He didn't want gentleness, tenderness, or anything remotely passive. I pushed into his love hole with a vengence. I would pull it all the way out and then plunge back into him. I grabbed the back of his hair and jerked back his head and rode that baby for all he was worth.

"Rip my asshole open. Fuck me to my tits. Fuck me!"

Miguel needed to feel, needed to be penetrated by a force more powerful than the crazy voices that from time to time invade his head. I am jealous of the voices. I may own his ass but they can invade his dreams. I am engaged in my own pitched battle with the voices. I slammed my thick cock into his asshole up into his guts and came into him with everything I had.

Lately the voices and I have been fighting each other with an intensity heretofore unexperienced in the relationship. I came into the bathroom once last week, Miguel was sitting naked on the toilet, head lowered and held between his hands, rocking gently up and down, up and down. He didn't even know I was there until I touched him. I believe in lots of touching.

We've been together eight years. People sometimes ask where we met. Rarely do we tell the truth. At the time we were both twenty and patients on the seventh floor of St. Francis Hospital in San Francisco. The seventh floor is known locally as the "faggot funny farm." The lounge TV is on twenty-four hours a day, the doors are electro-magnetically controlled, the air is stale and disinfected. There is nothing "funny" about the seventh floor. More like quiet resigned despair.

Miguel was my roommate. They put us together because we were both young, both queer, both insane, and if we fucked each other maybe we'd be too busy to fuck and suck the rest of the ward.

Miguel didn't look crazy. He was an aspiring actor. He's hispanic , muscular, dark, and has the most incredible slow smile. Always the smile.

I was the one who probably looked crazy. Some people "come out" as easily as the sun at noon. I had just "come out" of the closet and out of a failed marriage. There was nothing easy about it. I "came out" to my wife who picked up our new baby daughter and ran as fast as her legs would carry her back to her parents. I "came out" and "went into" one of my certifiable depressions. Total, dark, inner, twisted, panicked depression.

One late night on the ward Miguel stood silently near the foot of my bed.

"Hey, man, are you asleep?" He asked.

"Who can sleep in this fruitcake factory?" I said.

He laughed. "What I'd really like to do is climb under those warm sheets with you, if you know what I mean.'

I knew what he meant. Miguel and his fierce need to touch and be touched did more for me than all the psychiatrists, pills, and talk, talk, talk ever did.

"Let me eat your asshole. You've got a great ass…for a white boy. I'd really like to shove my tongue up your hole as far as I can ram it up there."

My gay sexual experimenting had been shy and limited to two older men who'd been as closeted as I had been. I'd been sucked off…that was about it. I had never even considered or fantasized about some guy wanting to stick his tongue up my ass.

I lay on my back with my legs up while Miguel went to work

"Bear down and open up your hole as much as possible, Tim." tongue exploring me and eating my ass. I loved it.

I fought against loving Miguel. You're not supposed to fall in love with a crazy. But he was the only fruitcake I'd met who could laugh about his voices…his casa de voz, who called himself El Loco.

One night he put on a one man show for me. He'd appeared in Romeo and Juliet as Mercutio at the Amerrican Conservatory Theatre where he is a company member. He transformed our room into an imaginary scene set in Verona. Dancing on top of beds, brandishing swords on chairs, and eventually dying with a plastic red rose in his mouth, I was treated to a gustfull Shakespearean performance. He made me laugh and I hadn't laughed in weeks. It was difficult not to love him. It still is.

We developed a plan wherein we'd get our acts together, get out of the St. Francis, move in together, and see what happened.

Our plan was frowned upon by our doctors. Doctors know what's best for everyone. We were insistant.

Being crazy involves a lot of risk. It can involve being on intimate terms with parts of yourself that most sane folks repress. We were used to risk. Any realationship involves risk. Perhaps the reason that we've been together for eight years is because of the fact that we are acutely aware of the nature of the risk of day to day living. We are used to risking our sanity on a daily basis.

DRUMMER 33

After eight years our sanities and selves have become so intertwined and connected as to defy psychoanalytic definition. We've had to be creative in order to survive.

One night, a long while back, after we'd returned to our apartment from a dance jam at the Stud, Miguel asked me to hit him.

"What?" I asked.

"I said that I want you to hit me. I want you to hit me really hard. I'm a sonofabitch. I really am. I'm no good for you. Hit me. Hit me, Tim,"

"Miguel, I can't hit you. Why would I want to hit you? Stop it. I love you. You know that."

"I want you to hit me."

"Why?"

"I don't know why. I'm bad. The voices say that I'm bad. That's why. Now, hit me.

"No."

He went over to the living room wall, smashed my only framed photograph of my kid, and ripped the photo to shreds.

"You see. I am bad. I'm bad for you. I don't deserve you.

I hit him across the face with the full fledged blow of my open hand. He practically flew across the room. I went after him and hit him again. I wrestled him to the floor. I took hold of his sweaty T-shirt and ripped it off of him. I pulled his pants down to his knees and spanked his bare ass until slight red raised welts appeared. I grabbed a handful of hair and fucked him in his ass so hard he'll never forget it. I about twisted those tits right off of him. He cried. When I came I pushed his face into the floor and spanked him again.

Ever since that time I've never hesitated to pull his pants down and spank his bare ass forcefully if I feel that he needs it.

"Tim, why do you love me?" He recently asked.

"Well, aside from your hot fuck hole, and the fact that you're probably the only person on earth who enjoys sticking their tongue up my ass, I probably love you because you're crazy as shit. I'm not sure that I could love anyone stupid enough to call themselves sane.

'I love you and I admire you, you fruitcake. I like the way you tell people to their face exactly what you think. You're one of the few totally honest people I've ever met. I mean, it never even occurs to you to play up to people. It's just not you. Life is not a popularity contest for you.

"I love you because when I see you work onstage it's as if you become your characters. It's weird. I love you because you are weird. Okay? I love you because you've made me see so many small joys around being alive-when I didn't always feel like being alive. You're always there to point out the pure idiocy within myself. I love you because you need me. I love you because I need you. I love you because I like to stick my hot thick juicy hog cock up your crazy rectum. Is that reason enough for you?'

Miguel can be full of surprises. Where I usually function in a state of unconscious "what am I going to defrost today for tomorrow," Miguel functions basically in the here and now.

One night we were walking home on Market Street. It was a night like a thousand others. We'd just come out of a Castro bar. They came out of nowhere from behind us. There must have been five or six punks, a couple of baseball bats, and some angry words about the fags and the maricons.

I was slow to react. My first impulse was to run until I realized that half a block away there were more of them waiting for us to run into them. A couple went for Miguel and he reacted with a quick fury that startled everyone. Miguel pulled out the knife that he frequently carries. He went on the offensive and began punching, kicking, cutting, and screaming obscenities in Spanish . He stabbed at anything within his range.

"Hey, this fucker's cut my face, man!" Blood was coming out of an ugly gash across one of the punks faces.

"This motherfucker's crazy, man. Come on!" As quickly as they had come they disappeared into the night.

"You see…I am good for something." He said. "I ought to DRUMMER 34 take out an ad: Rent a nut. One certifiable maniac for rent. Protection from punks: Call_

I thought that the fight incident might bring on another bout with the demons. It didn't. It was a good period. That was the summer when he did Shakespeare In The Park. He played various parts in the plays of the Bard in Golden Gate Park. My favorite role of all time is Miguel as Puck in A Midsummer Night's Dream.

There is a pagoda in the park on Glass Lake. In the evening it becomes quiet and empty. I made love to Miguel there that summer.

His remission from the voices ended that fall. Miguel started sliding and we both started doing valium. Faggot therapy. We'd get ripped to the tits and go out to the Stud. The Stud is cheap, sleazy, and unique. We'll dance until we drop. We get off on the old hippies the drag queens, the leather, and all our old friends from St. Francis who practically live at the Stud. The chaos is external and focuses outside of any inner tumult. Someday the old worn wooden floor is going to cave in with 300 drugged, crazed faggots dancing their way into Hell.

For the past season Miguel has been appearing in the lead of ACT's version of Bent. His hair's been shaved to the nub. He's gotten incredible reviews. We went to a cast party last night. Miguel seemed so sure of himself, confident, in total control, smiling…always the smile. Soon his eyes said to me, "…take me home now."

The drive home was cold and rainy. He said nothing. I could tell that it was going to be a bad one. I got him in the door of our apartment and all the confidence, the total control…vanished. I sat him in a chair with his coat on while I built a small fire in the fireplace. The small room soon warmed. I took his coat off. His head was lowered and held by his hands. He rocked back and forth, ever so slightly, ever so gently.

I put him on the floor on the rug in front of the fire. I could hear the rain battering away against the window. Miguel curled up into a fetal position. His eyes were vacant. He seemed to be doing battle somewhere else…somewhere so remote and private one might lose ones self on any journey through it with him.

I lay down next to him and held him. Slowly I unbuttoned his sweat soaked shirt, undid his pants, stripped him, and put a quilt over us. I took hold of his face and gently kissed him, slowly putting my tongue into his mouth which accepted me. Physically I was saying, "…baby, I'm here. It's OK…" I turned him on his belly and took some warm massage oil and spread it evenly on his sweaty warm back, buttocks, thighs. I gently kissed his toes, then put each one into my mouth. I explored his feet

I opened the crack of his hairless butt, exposing his small round love hole. I put my tongue into its small crater-like cre-vises , kissing, sucking, exploring. Two fingers slowly went into his rectum. Carefully and slowly a third was added. His hole relaxed. His entire body relaxed. Soon, most of my hand had been inserted. He was ready for my cock. I was hard. I oiled myself and eased into the warm lush insides of my lover. I pumped slowly and rhythmically. I took hold of both of his tits with a firm grasp. I pulled his head up for an intense kiss. His brown uncircumsized cock was rigid and jammed underneath the weight of our sweating bodies. I rammed into his love hole. I rode him hard enough to drive the voices out for one brief instant. I came. I rolled us onto our sides and took his stiff erection in my hand. With four gentle strokes he came into my hand. Three long squirts of white jism. I put the come into my mouth savoring its thick sweetness, playing with his sperm in my mouth.

He fell asleep exhausted and wet. It would be a difficult night for him. We will get through this period. We'll hang on to each other, as tight as a bitch, and we'll come through this one.

Tonight the voices wil permeate his nightmare sanity like scavengers after a bloody kill. His dreams will come in waves like evil angels on a cold black tide. I slowly run my fingers through his chopped nubby hair and kiss his tortured dreaming lips.

LEATHER BULLETIN BOARD

San Francisco-Flash! The Knights Templar have risen like the phoenix. A group of men, dedicated to the ideals and practice, have resurrected the commitment to sado masochism and man-toman sex which made the medieval knights the most infamous and powerful group of its times. The San Francisco group is dedicated to SM, to the sane practice of the same, and to developing techniques. Membership in the group will be exacting which essentially means commitment to SM. To prevent any cults of personalities which have been the bane of other clubs, the Knights will remain loosely structured.

KNIGHTS TEMPLAR

Michigan Peninsula-By the time you read this column, the Chicago Hellfire Club's Inferno XII will have become history . Drummer's publisher, John Embry, and this writer will have attended this year's run. Future issues of Drummer will highlight this important annual conference . Stay tuned in!

New York-Spoke to Arthur Haber of Interchain. The members of Interchain should receive the support of our community because they are consistently trying to raise money for AIDS. It has become a divine obsession with them. They are centering their energies and resources toward combatting this terrible disease.

New Haven, CT-The Guardians, M.C. will be holding their "6th Pride" in Springfield, MA on the weekend of 23 September. Anyone interested should contact them at: Guardians MC, Box 3966, Amity Sta., New Haven, CT 06525-0966.

New York, MY—The Gay Men's Health Crisis, Inc., is having what they are touting as "The World's Toughest Rodeo," in Madison Square Garden on Saturday, 1 October. Prices range from $10, $15, $25. or $50. Special Patron, Sponsor and Benefactor tickets are available at $100, $250, $500. There will be celebrities, cowboys and clowns. Write: Gay Men's Health Crisis , Box 274, 132 West 24th Street, New

York, NY 10011, or give them a call at (212)807-6655. Giving to this very worthy fund raiser helps your brothers and could help you! We all have to fight AIDS.

Atlanta, GA-The Leathermen Atlanta are having their 3rd Anniversary run September 23-25. The run will be held in town and it will feature water rafting, a poker run, a banquet and other events. The cost for the weekend is only $35.00. For more information contact: The Leath-ermen Atlanta, Box 8595, Atlanta, GA 30306.

Jacksonville, FL-The Brothers MC will be having their "Reunion '83" in the north Florida woods during the weekend of 7 October. The theme of the run is "basic training." You will have to admit that those two words are loaded with great potential. There will be an appropriate uniform-leather-levi theme for all participants. The exact fees haven't reached me yet. The Brothers MC is the second-oldest club in Florida and were recently accepted into the Florida Brotherhood of Clubs. They are a small group of men. As anyone knows, no one should be fooled by age or size. I am sure many new trainees will find that these dudes will bring out the best in them. Don't miss the run! For information on the run contact : Brothers MC, 484 May Street, Jack-sonville , FL 32204, or call them at (904)358-9393.

Many of us know people who have been struck down by AIDS. It has become a real pervading specter which affects all of our lives. Gay businesses are feeling it in their businesses, bathhouses have closed or are just operating marginally. Many men are having to reassess their lifestyles. Many guys are looking for that perfect" or sometimes imperfect partner with whom they can share their lives with. He is not that easy to call up.

Even in the pre-AIDS days everyone was looking for the guy. How should clubs be affected? Leather and SM clubs should flourish. Certainly, a number of clubmen have come down with AIDS, but there is within the very structure of the clubs a number of positive factors to be considered . One, the clubs that have a sado-masochistic orientation can allow for a lot of sexual play through SM which does not include penetration. In a good SM scene two guys can play in such a manner where both of them get their rocks off without having to exchange bodily fluids. The exchange of energy between the participants is the highpoint between two people in any scene. A properly orchestrated scene by a reasonable top can bring his bottom to the point of orgasm and then he can decide if he wants to let him get off. The top can find in the scene his own release without having to shove his cock into any of the bottom's orifices. Sure, it doesn't substitute good old fucking or getting ones cock sucked, but it can be both emotionally and physically satisfying . Another factor to consider, is the club scene strips off all of the phoney veneer of the top and bottom and each person gets to see where the other person really lives and I have seen where long lasting relationships have grown between two dudes who met in a club.

In my opening item, I mentioned the formation of the Knights Templar. This group of men-tops and bottoms- are trying to answer the needs of the SM man. It is not essentially a "fuck" club. San Francisco has needed a club of experienced, responsible and dedicated men into the sadomasochistic scene, where a criterion for admission is a dedication to SM. The Knights Templar in the Middle Ages were a group of religious men who because of their homosexuality and practice of SM ended up being suppressed by the Roman Catholic Church. The rebirth of the Knights does not at this juncture have any hint of spirituality, but it is dedicated to the man-to-man, SM relationship. If anyone in the San Francisco Bay Area is interested in the club, drop me a line here at Drummer.

Leather / levi, biker, and SM clubs are entering the fall months when many of you are considering your big annual runs or get-togethers. This year, I would like to suggest that you build into your run-budgets a certain percentage of the take which can be given to fight AIDS. Announcements in your pre-run publicity that a portion of the gate money will be set aside for fighting AIDS would bring a larger number of participants and would help your own image in the community, not to mention the real good this money would do. We are all affected by this dread disease in one way or another and are all subject to coming down with it. Each of us should do whatever we can to fight it.

-Frank Hatfield

WANTED

We are looking for men to feature in our advertising for VITA-MEN. Must be healthy, attractive , muscular, photogenic and use the product (at our expense). Please contact Jim Wigler at our advertising agency. (415) 864-3472. turnin your best friend

CONRAP

ConRap will appear every couple issues listing the prisoners who have requested correspondance with the outside world. While most inmates are sincere in their efforts to establish contact with someone on the outside—there are a few con artists operating out of the various joints, and the potential Drummer penpal needs to exercise some common sense in his dealings.

Robert E. Lusk, Box 747-A-59347, Starke, FL 32091. G / W / M / 22, 130#, 5'9", black hair, brown eyes, attractive. Inter- ests are music, sports, sex.

Richard Joe Kidd, B-72191, San Quen-tin , CA 94974. Ex-Army major, 45, 5'9", 150#. Former POW, gets out in 1984. Into watersports and scat.

Bill Renaud, #076259, Box 221, Raiford, FL 32083. G / M 24, 5'10", 150#. Into chess and knitting.

Gerald Sampson, #048268, Box 747, Starke, FL 32091. G / B / M, 26, 6'1", 165#.

Wants correspondents.

Gary Eagan, Box 41-26325, Michigan City, IN 46360. G / W / M 155#, brown hair, blue eyes. Muscular build, A / P French & Greek. Wants correspondents and J / O photos.

Lloyd Wiggins, #069816, Box 747, Starke, FL 32091. B / M, 24, 5'5", 157#. Says he is extremely intelligent and easy going.

Dick Gee, #16541, Box 14, Boise, ID 83707. G / W / M, 25, 5'10", 155#, black hair, brown eyes. Looking for an older man with whom he can share his life and love.

Clyde Valdez, #70639, Camp J, Gator-1- L #14, Angola, LA 70712. No particulars.

Wants correspondents.

Charles Pabon, 82A2789-A-Block-L- 343, 354 Hunter St., Ossining, NY 10562. 26, 5'7", curly brown hair & brown eyes.

Michael LaFayette, #16581, Box A, Tho-maston , ME 04861.

William E.Hogue III, #14688# DOC 25- 5J, Box 30, Pendleton, IN 46064. This man is planning to be released to San Francisco . Articulate and intelligent.

Mike Ledger, #152-197, Box 45699. Lucasville, OH 45699-0001. W / M, 26. Mature and lonely man with family and friends, seeks friendship.

David L. Miles, #27173, Box 41, Michigan City, IN 46360. G / W / M, 22, 6'2", 160#, "baby" blue eyes. "Horny, hairy and hot with a nice rump." Looking for a good friend or lover.

Robert Marlow, #061789, Box 221, Rai-ford , FL 32083. 22, 5'6", 131#, blond hair, blue eyes. Gets out 12-5-83, needs someone to build a relationship with.

Barry Anderson #040918-15-1112, Box 747, Starke, FL 32091. 26, 5'10", 170#. Fox hunter out looking for a foxy man.

Jeffrey Lee Dupert, #166-986, Box 45699,

Lucasville, OH 45699-0001. No descriptive details, is lonely and wants people to write.

Bill Collins, #042531, Box 747, Starke, FL 32091. G / W / M, 29, 5'9", 150#, brown hair, blue eyes. "Would like meeting other gays.

Paul Van Dyne, #315341, Wynne B1-4- 14, Huntsville, TX 77340. Is up for parole in 1986 for voluntary manslaughter and wants people to write.

John S. Adams, #073993, Box 221, Rai-ford , FL 32083, Bi / W / M, 29, 5'9", 145#, dark hair, blue eyes, would like to write

Anthony G. Cootz, #15995, Box 14, Unit 7, Boise, ID 83707. W / M, 25, 6', 195#, brown hair and blue eyes. Expects parole in 2 / 84 and is looking to establish meaningful relationship for parole.

William H. Wirsen, SDCC 17222, Box 208 Indian Springs, NV 89070. G / M, no personal stats, wants pen pals.

Arthur L. Wanninger, #012874, H-16-B, Box 158, Lowell, FL 32663. W / M, 39, 5'10", 147#. Wants to share love and life with someone.

Dale R. Millar, #75405-012 (A-Unit), Box 1000, FCI, Milan, MI 48160, 24, 6'2", 175#, brown hair and eyes. Wants someone who is real and sincere over 30.

Martin Swithinbank, #82A3644, Bob B, Dannemora, NY 12929. Harvard Business

School grad wants intelligent, lasting friends.

Ferril L. Mickens, #C-18659, Box 600, Tracy, CA 95376-0600. W / M, 25, 5'11", 167#, brown hair and eyes. Self-supporting , needs someone to write to between 18-30.

Lester Day, #23549, Box 41, Michigan City, IN 46360. 23, brown hair and eyes, stocky build, A / P Greek and French. For right person almost anything goes.

Tyrone Little, 63-124 #034487, Box 221, Raiford, FL 32083. B / M, 28, 5'9", 140#, brown eyes, curly black hair. Wants serious correspondents, has been hurt before and doesn't need it now.

Thomas D. Williams, #071417, Box 221, U.C.I., Raiford, FL 32083. 24, hazel eyes, brown hair. Am looking for love and understanding.

Jesse Ferrell, #079087, Cell 6 D.C., Box 221, Raiford, FL 32083. G / W / M, 21, 5'10", 150#, like men over 25 with mature minds.

Charlie B. Brown, #032356, Box 221, Rai-ford , FL 32083. G / M, 31, 5'8", 160#. Will answer all letters.

Stephen Sanders, #045334, Box 747, Starke, FL 32091. G / W / M, 21, 5'7", 125#, blond, blue-eyed, feminine, very sexy, looking for long-lasting relationship. I am into all sexual variations and will try all.

Jeffrey C. Shick, #158941, Box 45699, Lucasville, OH 45699-0001. G / W / M, age not given, 6'2", 182#, brown hair and eyes. Will answer all.

Bad News: Steven Goss, #072816, Starke, FL, has been reprimanded and counseled by prison officials as a con artist who got money from sympathetic -Frank Hatfield gays.

by TOM HERMAN

The way I see it, if someone wants to be a fuckin' bottom that's his business. But once he comes on to you, begging and drooling , tells you how much he wants you to use him any way you want to, that's when I figure he better shut up and take whatever you dish out, because that's just what he asked me for. Nothing gets me like a guy who tells me how bad he needs it and then whimpers and cries if he doesn't like what I do to him. Not that it makes much difference one way or the other. I mean, once you've got him tied up there's not much he can do about it. If he gets too noisy, I just stick an old snot rag or two in his mouth. Besides, most of them can take a lot more than they think. I was once beating this guy with a mean bull whip. He was begging me to stop for a good five minutes before I got tired of playing with him. And just about when my arm was getting tired, he fucking came, just like that. He didn't even touch his cock. I figure if a guy really needs it, it don't mean shit what he says. I get enough guys coming back for more to let me know I'm doing something right.

The guys I like are the ones who have real good bodies, smooth skin, and really know what they like. Guys who get so blissed out worshipping me, they don't even know they have limits. Like this guy I knew, Bobby. Bobby's about 23, blond hair, blue eyes, about 5'8" with about the cutest little body I've ever seen.

I noticed Bobby about a year ago in the Mineshaft. He was running around without his shirt so everyone could see his perfect, hairless chest. I liked the way his cute little ass filled out his jeans and I couldn't help but notice a black handkerchief in his right back pocket. To a guy like me things like that are important. So I went up to him and looked him hard in the eye. Since he didn't seem to be going anywhere, I took my right fist and held it in front of his stomach, just enough so he could feel it. He kind of gasped, and I knew he liked it so I pressed in some more. He closed his eyes, he was really getting off on it, so I pressed my fist in as hard as I could. Fortunately he was standing against the wall, so he couldn't go anywhere. I had him pinned there like this beautiful little butterfly. I could tell he was in a lot of pain. He was such a pretty sight I could feel my prick start to get hard. Finally, I pulled my fist back and raised it to his face, level with his jaw. He grabbed my fucking fist with both his hands and he held it at his mouth and started licking it and kissing it, I mean he was really making love to my fist and sort of groaning with pleasure. I thought he was going to fucking come right there. I didn't want him to, so I took my fist away and just stared at his face a little more. "Please, Sir…" he said.

"Yeah, cocksucker?" "I want to serve you, Sir."

"Oh, yeah? What do you want to do for me?"

"Sir, I'll do anything for you, Sir."

Now that's what I like to hear; but like I say, I wanted to make sure he wasn't going to be a crybaby once I started with the rough stuff. "I gotta take a piss," I said.

"Please, Sir, let me drink it, Sir."

I pulled my old pecker out right there in the middle of the room. He dropped to his knees and practically knocked me over as he gobbled the whole thing down his throat. I had to hand it to him, he didn't spill a drop. And when it was all done I said, DRUMMER 38

"Did you like that, cocksucker?"

"Yes, Sir. Thank you for giving me your piss, Sir." I had to admit I was getting to like this little guy more and more, and he wanted me so bad I didn't have the heart to disappoint him.

"You want to come back to my place?" I said.

"Yes, Sir, very much, Sir." I had to take him to the coat check so he could pick up his shirt and his jacket. I'd been wearing my cycle jacket the whole time. Once he had his stuff on, I slipped my handcuffs off my belt and bound his two hands together behind him. He had a bit of trouble maneuvering the long flight of stairs down to the street, but he made it okay. We hopped into one of the cabs waiting outside and headed for the East Village where I live.

In the cab I took some poppers out of my jacket and took a long hit; then I pulled out my shlong and started playing with it. I looked over at Bobby. He was staring at my pecker like a starving man staring at food. "You like that?" I said quietly-I didn't want the cabby to hear everything, I like my privacy, you know.

"Yes, Sir, please, Sir… "You want to suck on it?"

I just kept on stroking my cock, teasing him and teasing him. Nothing makes me so hot as someone begging for me to use him. I love it when a man grovels and begs for me to fist him or whip him or fuck his face. I mean it's really a high, it makes me feel like a fucking king or something to have some guy begging me to abuse him.

"Hey, what's your name, anyway?"

"Bobby, Sir."

"Well, Bobby, you look like you want it real bad."

"Yes, Sir, please, Sir, please let me suck your cock Sir, please,

Sir, please let me suck it, please, Sir."

Now that's fucking music to my ears. I mean if you could've seen how desperate he was to get my big dong in his fucking mouth. It was beautiful. I could tell he was pretty experienced. He knew he needed to wait for my permission to suck on it, but I knew at some point he'd go for it anyway, risk hell or high water, permission or not. Finally he lunged for it, but I caught him by the throat before he could get his fucking mouth on it. I squeezed pretty hard, just to let him know I was strict about giving orders and having things my way. I was starting to choke him, so I finally let go of his throat. But just as soon as he caught his breath his first words were:

"Please, Sir, please, Sir…

"Okay, sucker, but just for a little while."

Talk about a pig in shit. I never saw anything like this guy. He swallowed my whole eight inches and made such sweet love to my dick, I was in danger of coming right away. I had to make him slow down a bit. I took another hit on the poppers and then I grabbed the back of his head and just held him there with my cock down his throat. I knew he couldn't breathe like that, but I was having too much fun to let him up right away. Anyway, that's what he was there for. Finally, I could tell he was trying to pull back his head pretty desperately, so I gave him about a second to take a breath and then pushed his head down again.

By this time we were in front of my house, so I pushed him off me and buttoned up my fly. I live on the third floor of a walkup and I thought just for fun I'd let this fucker crawl up to my

apartment. So I told him to get on his knees and start crawling. The cute thing about it was that his arms were still cuffed behind him, so he had to try to maneuver just with his knees with occasional help from his shoulders and head.

I encouraged him. "Come on, asswipe. Climb those stairs. Let's see how low you'll go for your man, cocksucker. Hey, you can do better than that, asshole. Whatsamatter, steps hurt your knees?" Sometimes I'd give him a little kick with my boot. That would make him lose his balance. But finally he made it.

Once we were in my apartment, I undid the handcuffs because I wanted him naked. I ordered him to strip and I took a long look at his body. Something told me I was doing everything right that night. His pecker was sticking straight out, and I knew he was ready for anything. So I walked up to him, stood right in front of him and sort of stuck my tongue out just a little, like I was inviting him to kiss me or something. When he went for it I slapped him hard on the side of his face and then I grabbed him by the hair and pulled his head back. I cleared my throat and spit on his upturned face. It hit him mostly in the eye and then started to dribble down his face. By this time his mouth was open like he was asking me to do it again so he could drink some of my spit. So I did it a couple more times and he swallowed it like he was taking communion.

Well, what I really wanted to do was to beat the shit out of him. So I told him to get back on the floor on his knees and made him unfasten my belt and pull it out from my pants. Of course, he had to do all this with his teeth. When he was done, he sat there like a dog with the belt hanging from his mouth, waiting for my next command. I took the belt and held it in front of him.

"Okay, fucker, this old garrison belt's gonna whip your hide. It's gonna make you bleed, give you nice big welts. Doesn't that sound good? It's gonna hurt real nice."

By now he was sort of moaning and licking the fucking belt in gratitude for what it was going to do to him. "That's right. You just make love to my belt, because it's gonna hurt you real nice. That black leather's gonna look real good on your skin, man. It's really gonna fuck you up."

"Please, Sir…

"Yeah, boy, what do you want?"

"Please, Sir, beat me, Sir."

"You want it real bad, don't you, boy?"

"Yes, Sir, please, Sir. "You like pain, boy?"

"Oh yes, Sir. Please, Sir. Please beat me, Sir. I need it so bad, Sir." I must really be soft inside, because I find it so hard to say no to a man who's that desperate. So I took the belt from his mouth and rested it on his back and sort of stroked him real tender with it. I wanted him to savor the anticipation of all the pain he was about to receive. He closed his eyes and moaned some more; he seemed all ecstatic.

I raised the belt over his head and just held it there for a little yeah, Bobby." while. I told him to keep his eyes closed on account of I didn't want him to know when I was going to use it. Finally, I let him have it. He cried out, cause I hit him real hard; but still I didn't knew what was good for him. He was real quiet after that—not out of fear of what I might do to him-shit, I could've done anything to this guy—but just out of blind obedience. So I beat him a few more times on the back and the ass and I could see the welts starting to form. That got me really hot, so I gave him a few more strokes. Man, he looked good like that, lying on the floor at my feet, all marked up from my belt, and just waiting for anything—anything I wanted to dish out.

Still, I figured I'd better stop for a while. I didn't want him to pass out on me or anything. I mean, it's no fun torturing a guy who can't feel it. Anyway, I had to take a shit.

'Hey, Bobby, I've got a surprise for you, kid. I'm gonna let you eat my shit. I got a nice big turd for you. How does that sound, Bobby?" He got up onto his knees and turned around so he was facing me and he lunged at my feet. He just started licking my boots and groaning and stuff. I guess that was his way of saying yes. I told him to wait there while I went into the other room. as he trotted off to the shower.

I had this trick once who gave me this shit-feeding chair in appreciation for what I'd done for him one night. It's basically just a toilet seat on legs so I can sit on it while someone else lies underneath it and I can feed him my turds. It's a great little toy. I told Bobby to lie face up and placed the chair over him. He seemed to catch on pretty fast to how it worked and everything. Then I sat down. First thing I did, I cut this big powerful fart, a nice loud one, right in his face. It made him sort of writhe in excitement.

"Yeah, smell your man's farts, bobby." He was straining to get his face in my ass as deep as possible. I cut another fart. I could feel his tongue trying to get as far inside my hole as it could go, licking and probing.

'Here it comes, baby. Open up; eat your man's shit." I could feel the stuff coming out of my ass, and old Bobby's face was right there to take it. "Eat that turd, man. Take it. Take that turd from your master's ass." He did too. It was a mean old turd, too big for his mouth. got off the chair and pushed it aside. He had half the turd in his mouth and the other half was sticking up in the air. I told him to take the thing out of his mouth and rub in on his stomach. Then I told him to start rubbing it all over his body with his hands. "Let's see you cover yourself with your master's shit, asshole. Rub it all over your stomach and chest, and cover your fucking face with it. That's right, asshole. Cover yourself with your master's shit. That's what you are, boy, a piece of shit. You're scum, boy. Lying there covered with a man's shit. What kind of turd are you? Let a man shit in your mouth, then you rub it all over your body.'

He just kept rubbing it on him and moaning. This guy was so happy lying there covered with my shit. By now I had to piss again, so while he was doing his thing with my shit I started to piss all over him. I mostly aimed at his face but I guess I covered his whole body, because when I was done he was lying in a pool

"Roll over on your stomach, asshole. I'm gonna fuck you now." His whole back and ass were real red and bloody from when I'd been beating him. It sure made me hotter than hell. It was nice to see him there all raw and covered with my piss and

"You look real nice, Bobby. You make me real hot. I'm gonna take that ass of yours. I'm gonna use that ass of yours.'

I spit a little into my hand and rubbed it on my cock. I spread Bobby's legs and lowered myself into position. I entered him slowly until I knew I was inside him, then I plowed into him as hard as I could. He screamed, but I forgave him. I felt too good to think of punishing him now. I started ramming it into that tight firm ass, over and over, and waves of pleasure surged through my entire body.

"Take it, Bobby, take your man's cock, take that dick. Oh

Bobby was panting. I think he was sobbing in happiness, his

"Oh yes, yes," he kept saying. "Fuck me, fuck me!" Well, I it and tighten it and do everything he could think of to give me more pleasure.

"Take your man's dick. Feel that hard boner up your asshole. Yeah. Feels so good." Well, I was getting close and Bobby was gasping and groaning and shouting in ecstasy. I increased my rhythm. "I'm getting close, fucker. I'm gonna come, I'm gonna come!"

I just lay on top of him. "You all right?" I asked him.

"Yes, Sir," he said dreamily. "Did you get your rocks off?"

"Yes, I sure did, Sir."

I rolled off him and took his defiled body in my arms. I kissed him on the mouth. I must be going soft inside, man; I was really getting to like this fucker. "Hey, why don't you get cleaned up? I don't want any shit in my bed."

"Yes, Sir!" he said, and he flashed me the sweetest little smile

(GAV

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A.I.D.S. INFORMATION UPDATE

Because the picture on A.I.D.S (Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome ) changes constantly, new published information follows suit. Not that we are anywhere closer to an answer about the cause, test for, or cure of A.I.D.S. However, as time and research progress, new theories are explored and sometimes discarded.

The third edition of the Guidelines and Recommendations for Healthful Gay Sexual Activity published by The National Coalition of Gay Sexually Transmitted Disease Services is available by writing to: NCGSTDS, Box 239, Milwaukee, WI 53201. We suggest you include either return postage or a small donation to help cover the cost of printing and distribution . Guidelines, a seven-panel brochure, covers almost all of the STDs that currently face the gay community. A simple scoring system for sexual activity lets you determine if you are in a high-risk group or not (which can be comforting in its own right) and gives you information on having tests made should you think you might be STD-prone.

Thousands of people will participate in a candlelight vigil on Capitol Hill the evening of October 8, 1983 in Washington , DC. The demonstration of solidarity with the victims of A.I.D.S. and the need for more and immediate federal funding and concern over the A.I.D.S. crisis is being co-ordinated by the National AIDS Vigil Commission (2335 18th Street NW, Washington, DC 20009). Besides the public event, the Vigil Commission is circulating a petition (single sheet, room for 25 names) that will be presented to the Federal Government. You can obtain a copy of the petition and have it signed in your area by requesting it from the National AIDS Vigil. We suggest you include return postage to help defray the costs. The petition is a pre-printed sheet which can be photocopied.

Another grassroots attempt to get government attention and response has emerged from GMHC / New York AIDS Network. A packet of pre-printed post cards, addressed to key government officials (including the President) intended to be filled out and mailed are being circulated in key areas. Information on this project is available from: Jerry Johnson, GMHC / New York AIDS Network, Box 274, 132 West 24th Street, New York, NY

10011. The cards addressed to Mr. Reagan will not be mailed, but presented to him at a currently undisclosed public media event.

An extraordinarily intelligent and provocative booklet, "How To Have Sex in an Epidemic: One Approach" is currently available from: News From the Front Publications , Box 106, 70 Greenwich Ave., New York, NY 10011 for three dollars. If you are currently engaging in non-monogamous sexual activity, you might well consider this primer on safety. It includes some radical but intelligent ideas about pre-sex medical testing similar to, but much more sophisticated than, the ritual blood test used in some states before the granting of a marriage license.

An overview of STDs and A.I.D.S. comes in Dr. Newman's Guide to the New Sexually Transmitted Diseases (Acropolis Books Ltd., 2400 17th Street NW, Washington, DC 20009; $12.95 postpaid). If you are unfamiliar with the spectrum of STDs, you might well consider this a very good investment. Dr. Newman is Director of Preventive Medicine for New Haven, Connecticut.

-John W. Rowberry

My Little Friends

Ah, Gregor and Igor! Ah, Larry K-! You little devils! What fun we have! Who would have thought-ever thought-of how much fun we have! Who could have thought that I, who am human, and you, who are-!

But there is Brian, at my door! Golden Brian-his tan is much darker than his hair-that angelic hair! And I don't mean just the hair on his head, though, God help me, that would be enough! But those almost white, soft, curly hairs on his body-going down his belly-on his sweet, young butt! I shall certainly let him in

Come in, Brian. Have a seat. A beer? Good. A joint? Here. (I have plans for you.) (Be patient, G., I., and L.K.!) Relax. Talk. I can wait. Talk.

Oh? So you had a good day at the gym? I bet. I'd love to see you sometime. What are your gym shorts like? Do they ride on your nice, firm hips? Do they cradle your basket, lift it up softly, to show to the world? I can imagine.

Yes, talk. We can wait. And I see you are looking around-taking a look to see if you can figure out what's going to happen to you.

But you can't. My cohorts-my partners in crime—are away, just now. Put away. In the cupboard. You don't know about them-yet.

Talk, talk-ah! You've caught sight of something! Could it be the rope, casually placed over there, in the corner? I thought you'd notice that.

Why do you keep looking at it? Something on your mind? A nice kid like you?

Well, we'll begin that way. In a while. I bet you think that's going to be it, that's going to be all. You'll learn better, Brian. I'm going to see you squirm. We're going to make you squirm.

Oh-I know what you mean by letting the 'conversation' lapse. Sitting there, looking at me. And glancing at the ropes. Have you noticed the hook in the ceiling? I'll give you a hint-I'll look that way. Ah! You noticed it!

That's right—look at me. I'll look at you. We know what that silence means. I mean you and me. And I also mean—apart from you and me-Gregor and Igor and Larry K. and me-we know a bit more than you do.

But you think you know. Okay.

Take off your clothes.

I'll sit here and admire you. You're such a kid, working out at the gym so hard. So hard-

-Speaking of which, I notice you are getting hard. Already? What is on your mind?

Beautiful, though. We'll make those veins stand out on it. And throb. You can touch it. I'm touching mine. Do you want to play?

Feet together.

Good. Not too tight? Feel good?

Hands together. Behind you.

Is that okay?

I like it. We'll like it.

Stand tall, Brian. Let me feel that chest. You like titplay. I can tell you do. Oh!- too much for you? No? A bit more? They want a bit more?

My, you're really into them. Okay.

First we'll bind them. I love rope pulled across the pecs. Tight? Good. Looks real good, man.

And now for some more. Going to make you a kind of sling, Brian, right on you. So we can package you up neatly, see if you enjoy dangling. But we've got to support you. And then we'll tie you into your support.

You look good. You look real good, tied up that way. I'll just look at you a moment, standing there, cock at attention.

Let's bind that too. And the balls.

Nice leather, isn't it?

Smell it.

Like the feel of it on your balls? Rubbing against it? Seems to turn you on.

What a pleasure it is. For me as well as you, binding up your balls-tight. Are they stretching?

Your ball-bag's tight—it's getting shiny. So's your cock. Like it?

It seems you do.

How about your tits? I know you like them-you made that one thing perfectly clear.

Try these.

There! I can tell you like them. Pretty harsh, huh?

Yeah. Yeah.

Okay, Brian. Double over. We'll tie your chest to your knees. Keep still.

There. You've gotten yourself into a pretty hopeless situation.

Feeling good?

Down on your butt, Brian.

Look up. No, not just at me. Above you. You didn't realize the hook was on pulleys ? It is. See?

And we can hook it right here. And hoist you up.

There.

What if I told you to stop spinning around? You couldn't. Poppers, Brian? Enjoy it.

There's more. We had more in mind. What's going to happen to you?

But first, while you're dangling there, let's make a neater package of you. So you squirm. So you really squirm. When I go to the cupboard and open it. And you

What kind of man belongs to 40:03 HUNGE

You already know what kind-he's macho, uncompromising, full of the gusto of life, knows exactly what he wants and he knows how to get it and where to look for it. He accepts only the best available in the pursuit of his lifestyle. That's why he belongs to the Leather Fraternity.

He knows a bargain when he sees one, too. Along with his subscription to DRUMMER, which is sent to him FIRST CLASS, his ad is in each one of those issues (to be changed as often as he likes). His replies are forwarded free alona with his own box number if he so desires. When he sits down at his computer to communicate with the leather world on the DRUMMER Bulletin Board, he has a special password that aets him into another level, for members only.

He lets the world of leathermen know who he is, what he is into and how to reach him. Then he makes an educated choice.

If you think that you are that kind of guy, send us a buck and we'll send you a brochure and questionnaire . We'll even apply the dollar to your membership when you decide to join.

The world of the LEATHER FRATER-NITY is waiting for you! What are you waiting for?

LEATUER FRATERNITY

964 Folsom St. San Francisco, CA 94107

☐ HERE IS A BUCK. SEND ME MORE INFORMATION.

☐ I'M SOLD. HERE'S $7500 FOR MY MEMBERSHIP, FORK OVER THE GOODS.

□ I'M ALREADY A DRUMMER SUBSCRIBER. HERE'S $7500, ADD A YEAR TO MY SUBSCRIPTION.

Name_

Address _

City, State, Zip___

(I am of legal age)_____ signature

WE'LL PICK IT UP IN MANIFEST TOO FOR FOUR-BITS HOT MAN-TO-MAN CONTACT FOR A COOL 35¢ A WORD!

WE'LL PICK UP YOUR AD IN THE NEXT ISSUE OF

Manifest FOR ONLY 15¢ A WORD MORE

50¢ A WORD

FOR BOTH!

NATIONWIDE

MODELS

Drummer is looking for leather / uniform men willing to model. (415) 864- 3456

STILL UNCUT?

Holding out for the right scene? Tell the Sarge all about it. Send description, photo (not necessary) and circumci- sion fantasy. All get replies, the chosen get clipped. Box 3433.

NEW GUY ON THE BLOCK 39 year old M, successful proffesional man, just breaking into the scene, seeks contact with individuals, groups. clubs, organizations in the mainstream of the national and/ or international S / M community for an introduction into the life style. Box 3675.

HOUSEBOY/ VALET 18—25 WANTED! Son wanting to advance with help of affectionate but demanding Dad call (617)256-2968 Boston.

TELEPHONE

NUMBERS DRUMMER and MANIFEST will now accept verified telephone numbers in personal ads. Please add $1 to the cost of the ad if a telephone number is included in the ad copy. If necessary, please indicate to us the best time(s) to verify the number. Commercial ads

(Services, Models, Travel, Resorts, Employment, For Sale, etc.) may have telephone numbers included in their advertising provided that advertisers can provide a business card, letterhead or other printed material on which the phone number to be used appears. There will be no exceptions.

MASOCHIST

Seeks experienced sadist in 501 levis and VN army boots with gameroom for SM, whipping, and especially ballwork. WM 40, 62", cut, 6". Travels frequently to Dallas, Atlanta, Chicago, NYC, DC, SF, LA, Denver, Etc. Also, field phone work and suspension with experienced S and right equipment. No FF, scat, rim- ming, drugs, WS, piercing, catheters, prods, damage. Occasionally switch. Also, Fr, Gr, movies, books, video- games, etc. Box 3743.

S / M ART GALLERY

Experienced art dealer is considering possibility of opening a Leather-S / M-Macho-Fetish art gallery, Interested painters, sculptors, photographers, models, etc. submit photos of work. suggestions, and feedback to Box 3772

THE FRATERNITY.

The largest group in the country for men into boots, shees, feet, footwear, and all types of clothing. Send $1.00 for information to: P.O. Box 786 San Francisco, CA 94101 (2321 Scott #9, S.F., CA 94115)

COMING TO L.A. FOR THE 84 OLYMPICS?

We can make it affordable. Write for more information. Gledhill Tours, 2112 Lyric Ave., Los Angeles, CA 90027.

BOOTMASTER Wants high black boots serviced by boot slaves. (402)554-1156.

ALABAMA

SOUTHERN HOSPITALITY In Mobile, AL We want to show you some Southern Hospitality that General Grant never saw. Two Real Men. Both 36; one blonder blue, beard and a hetty 8" uncut solid log sticking out from his 6'2" frame; The other 6'1" 170 LB fur ball with brown/ brown, equipped with a loaded uncut cock. We are looking for Southern Men and visitors to the south who are into being men and playing hard. We've had enough of the southern belles at the local bars. If you're fat or tem or don't qualify as a real man, don't waste our time. If you think you're man enough for our brand of hospitality, get your shit together and write us a letter with a hot photo (returnable) of your-self. Box 3754.

ALASKA

нот воттом

Hot bottom man into hiking, camping, backpacking. Would like to meet hot top men for fun in Alaska. I'm 5'10", 172 lbs, 42, br/ br, moustache, masculine, good build, hot buns. Would like to meet men 25-45, masculine, well-built, not fat, well-hung, who know how to take charge of the action. Write letter with photo to: P.O. Box 423, Kenai, Alaska 99611, or call (907)283-4879.

ARIZONA

BI / SEX, W / M, 36 Interested in corresponding and meeting with W / M, 26-45, who understands and likes the touch, smell, and taste only another man can provide. Interested in a trusting friendship and sharing each other's desires and fantasies. Must be descret, stable, straight appearing. No drugs or fats. Time's wasting, write Dave…this may be what we're both looking for Box 3795.

OUR ADS GET RESULTS!

INEXPERIENCED 34 YEAR OLD

130 lbs, 5'11"; looking for someone 25 to 35 years old. I'm into clothes fetish; leather, 501 Levi's, cowboys and etc. Into light S&M, bondage, rubbing, J.O. & etc. No scat, F.F. or W.S. Send letter & photo. Box 3791.

TWO MASCULINE TRIM DADDIES

Age 45 / 40 want masculine trim guy age 19-35 for love, companship, spankings, etc. No drugs. Box 35762, Phoenix, AZ 85069

ARKANSAS

LITTLE ROCK SLAVE

Get on your knees and write to this dominant Master, 62°, 185 lbs, 8½° uncut if you are white, masculine and not overweight. My interests are shaving your crotch smooth, pouring piss down your slave throat, bondage, gettin ting the discipline from you I demand, S&M, FF and letting you know who's boss. Am experienced, respectful of limits, imaginative. You should include your phone number and times you are available. Box 308B

NORTHERN CALIFORNIA

GOODLOOKING LEATHERMAN Castro Valley, S, 36, 6', 160 lbs., good looking Leatherman seeks M, for Leather Action, obedience, outdoor- bike scenes, bondage. (415) 582-1162 or reply Box 1582.

EASY INSTRUCTIONS DYNAMITE RESULTS!

TELEPHONE NUMBERS

DRUMMER and MANIFEST will now accept verified telephone numbers in personal ads. Please add S1 to the cost of the ad if a telephone number is included in the ad copy. If necessary, please indicate to us the best time(s) to advertising provided that advertisers can provide a business card, letterhead or other printed material on which the phone number to be used appears. There will be no exceptions.

DOMINANT BODYBUILDER 32, 55°, 160 lbs, 29° waist, 40° chest, sadistic but sane, into intense testicle pressure, bondage, titwork and unus- ual equipment. If you are a bodybuilder with a high pain threshhold and a sense of adventure, call Don. (415) 864-5566 or (707) 869-0243 from 10am to 8pm 10 only.

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 a 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 want the letter returned should there be some problem with delivery. Put proper postage on the envelope. Include 25¢ for each letter you want forwarded. Put the whole thing (sealed letter and fee) in another envelope addressed to Drummer. Letters not properly prepared will be destroyed.

Signature

DRUMMER 53

SAN FRANCISCO RUSSIAN RIVER

SM. C&BT. To tie and chew on. Don't forget T / T. Versatile. Your photo gets mine. All answered. Box 3442. is that you, buddy? Is your dick extra- long and / or extra-thick? If you've 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, ex-porno actor, hunky, gdlky, hot ass, insatiable appetite. And if you're a young, super-hung horny dude, into young, super-hing horny doub, more ducking a hot ass with that meat of yours, plus any other raunchy action (except FF) write with a pic. I'm for real, man. J.M., P.O. Box 99688, San Francisco, CA 94109.

FISTFUCKERS

It's not depth but motion that excites this hungry hole. Goodlooking W / M wants to play with other hot men who know how to use their fleshy paws. Write to Daniel at 584 Castro #246, S.F., CA 94114 or call (415)621-5262 before 11:PM only

SOME PEOPLE SAY

That I am a devil. I think I am an angel of my kind. Write me telling me how kinky you can get and let's get together to have fun. Later on we'll get into more serious things, of course. Hurry up! There are too many things around the cosmos for us to pick up. Me: WM, 40, 5'11", 175. You: I hope you have a good mind. Box 3441.

UNIFORMS

Dutch / German-American, 32, 6'2", 170 lbs., blue eyes, blond hair, hot. Looking for men interested in police & military uniforms esp. German, jockstraps & tall polished boots. Respond only if you are not looking & sexy & willing to sub- mit to & worship a true Aryan-Nordic type. Picture is a must. RST, Apt. #2, 437 29th St., S.F., CA 94131.

JIM WIGLER-DRUMMER STAFF PHOTO- GRAPHER-WILL PHOTOGRAPH YOUR LEATHER / UNIFORM FAN-TASY ! 673-1284.

THREEWAYS

Two horny leathermen seek third for hot threeway action. Jake: exclusive top w / big dick. Dan: very versatile & a good bottom. Reply w / photo to Jake & Dan, 584 Castro #246, S.F., CA 94114 or call (415)621-5262. No calls after 11:PM

HOTS F COUPLE

Seeking buddies (1 or more) for mutual enjoyment in expanding our experience in fucking, light S&M, B&D, WS, toys, dildoes, polaroids, playrooms, & fan- tasy scenes. Not into FF, scat, heavy pain. Reply with photo to Box 3797.

TALL MELLOW TOP

Wants an easy going, independant Buddy with a healthy hairless body and a hot fuckable ass. Photo, letter, and phone to Box 3767

BLOND COCKSUCKER Bodybuilder has spit and suction for men with good muscles and healthy minds. No dick too long. No muscles too sweaty. Box 1536

MASTER WANTED I am a 52 year old slave, am in excellent physical condition, 6'5", 185#, full head of hair. I have the headspace to serve a Master between the ages of 21 and 32 who is dominant and knows what he wants. I am looking for a permanent relationship of serving and servicing a Master. Am interested in movies, theater, reading, sports and a variety of other interests. I realize a relationship cannot be built in a black room, but I am open to the interests and needs of the right Master. Limits are caring and responsible Master. If you are interested, please, Sir, contact me. Box 3757

S / M ART GALLERY

Experienced art dealer is considering possibility of opening a Leather-S / M- Macho-Fetish art gallery. Interested painters, sculptors, photographers, models, etc. submit photos of work, suggestions, and feedback to Box 3772.

2 6H STUDS 4 HOT 3RDS

2 9's N2 most scenes. No hvy S&M / scat. Moustache, LL, VA, B&D, TOYS R A+. S Bay area. We R hot— U better B 2! Box 3484.

W / M 40 WITH BEARD

Looking for partners in mutual action for any scene particularly interested in C / B. T / T, FF. Attitude and willingness to experiment more important than looks. Box 3106.

FLEXING AND SHOWING

Off your muscles in bondage while another body builder teases and sensually torments you until you come, again and again. From mild to heavy. Your limits respected. Colt types preffered. Write to P.O. Box 5401, Oakland, CA 94605

BAY AREA: BOTTOM/ SLAVE

6', 165 lbs, WM. Looking for dominant, masculine Top/ Master. Into B / D, W / S, want to experience more. Request instructions with photo/ description. Box 3577

PATRON FRIEND SOUGHT

Gay male writer looking for assistance by altruistic type. Worrying about money and writing do not mix; between you and I, the romantic notion of the struggling writer is a nice illusion but is not fun to live. If you can help, and think that you might want too, please let me know. Discretion is important. I am friendly, considerate, talented, sincere, discret. Ron, P.O. Box 22036, San Francisco , CA. 94122

HOT COCK + I'm 32, 150#, 5'10", hirsute, muscular w / br. hair, moust. & beard, tit-ring & atoo, usually top but welcome other tops one-to-one or? Experienced in all scenes esp. VA, TT, Humiliation, FF (top) cigars, and leather. You are together gWM 22 to 40, flexible and willing to expt. w / both new old scenes for max, pleasure. No blood or IV drugs. Your photo gets mine. Barry Byford 495 Ellis #2892 SF CA 94102.

SEXUAL ABUSIVE MASTER W / SLAVE-DOG

Wislaw – Dog Wants and and/ or 4th. 1 am a (G.L.) masculine Master (37). 1 own a Butch Sicilian son/ slaw-dog (35). Though he is still in training, I have taken control over his mind instilling in him a great desire & need worship his Master's commands, leather boots, man-crotch & man-ass. He now works at proving he has two hungry holes that are total pussy. I am looking for another master buddy who owns a boy so we may together expand on the powerful mental dominance, degradation, verbal humiliation, bondage & sexual abuse of my/ our slave pussy. Other Masters invited- other slaves submit respectful letter. Only serious replies w / photo will merit this experience. Box 3615.

LEATHER/ UNIFORM J.O.

Hot guy looking for leather/ uniform J.O. buddy. Must be into gloves and boots. Relationship desired with right guy. Call Jim (415)673-1284.

SOUTH BAY AREA White male, 27, 6', 165 needs fantasies turned into realities. I need a leather bondage Master who will take control and guide me through moderate to heavy B / D, V / A, boots, gloves, police uniforms, hoods, and light to moderate S / M. Serious training needed. If possi- ble, send photo. Box 3711.

I'M LOOKING

For a long term relationship with a macho muscular slave into oil—sweat—kink—chains. 5'9", 175, 45. Phone (415)944-9984.

GWM, 27, 6', 165 LBS, short brown hair, slim build: respectfully requests to be used by dominant Top(s). Into: B / D, W / S, VA, T / T, C / B, Hoods, getting fucked at both ends. Please send instructions/ description. (Vallejo / Bay Area). Box 3577.

WANTED: TOTAL SLAVE By 45 year old Master. Absolutely no limits honored. Must include photo & phone. Novices considered. Must relo- cate to Marin Co., CA. Box 2042.

THREE RING CIRCUS

2 lovers seek playmate. We want a laid-back , head-together, nice-n-easy, goodtime buddy who likes to ball all night and get crisco on his hands. Send photo and phone to Box 3732.

33, WHITE MALE, 180

Seeks life as dog with leathered master owner. Into heavy B&D, punishment. Sk to be collard, caged, mind controlled, kenneled, used, tagged & kept as dog for life. Never again treated as human. Perm only. Must be able to handle animal safely & sanely. No games. "Kai" c / o 540 — 0'Farrell 306, S.F., CA 94102. (415)775-9120. Relocateable.

YOUR ADS GET RESULTS!

FACESITTERS / MASTERS

German urinal-pig 31 / 61*/190 lbs, wants to make his fantasies real with a real S.F. TOP, I'm willing to spend a whole week of my life, day and night, SIR, Also available for Private-Clubs and I'm willing to work for my Master, SIR. Please send me the date, I will come to S.F., SIR. Don't forget overseas airmail postage. Box 3461

SHORT HANDSOME BODYBUILDER

San Francisco native, discreet-even intelligent, experienced in S&M, Expert at balancing pleasure with pain. Safe (non-damaging) genital torture, restraints , mechanical and electrical stimulation to deliberately stretch your limits. I don't just assume a dominant "role"— I am sadistic, dominant, and no amateur, Roger (415) 864-5566.

LEAN, WELL-DEFINED SLAVE Seeks trim sadist into light to heavy S&M, bondage, face-sitting, raunch, tit, cock & ball torture, piercing. But your trip, your way. Travel. Am 41, 5'11", 150#. Versatile. Send photo, phone, letter to P.O. Box 5906, S.F.

ROPES

Hot, horny, well put-together Libran, 35, 5'8", 135 lbs., 8" cut, has a lot of rope and a lot of time to explore bondage trips with equally intense, like-minded MEN. Tune in to some real trips with a goodlooking bottom / top. Photo brings photo. Tightropes, 795 Buena Vista West #4, San Francisco, CA 94117.

MASTER SEEKS Slave for military training POW S&M, B&D FF WS pic & ph. no. Boxholder 51786 San Jose CA 95151.

нот воттом

6'5", 185 lbs., 51, hairy, moustache. Enjoy T / T, FF/ CBT, bondage, piercing, whips. But your trip, your way. Willing to experiment. No booze, heavy drugs. Box 3757

HANDSOME S.F. J / O MAN

Into long sweaty cumfilled handjob encounters with other true studs. 29, 6',

165, moustache, thick 8" mantool and neavy slung sack. Photo a must: Chase, 2269 Market, #333, S.F., 94114.

DADDIE'S BOY 21

Looking for big beer belly daddy's with beards age 35-55. Barry 415 / 775-6165. Box 4244, S.F., CA 94101.

HOT DADDY

Masculine, dominant—looking for sensuous, lustful, intelligent hot boy—needs to know how to take & to execute, weekly services required. Box 3801

NORTH BAY AREA W novice S 50 6'2", 185 6½ cut, seeks nonsmoking, nondrinking masculine novice M to 45 willing to explore and develop mutually satisfying encounters in remote country setting. Prefer slender, cut, outdoor type that is interested in regular or permanent relation- ship. Send details and interests to Box 3802

BAD BOYS (18+) Report to W / M 59 and / or B / M 42 for appropriate B / D and other use and abuse. Box 3792

BOTTOM MAN

Into Bondage and / or tit and ass play. Located in the south bay area, and looking for someone with his head together for fun and whatever. Box 3790.

HEY BAY AREA, LIL' SHITS!

S.F. Master—wants ruggedly hand- some, raunchy, worthless slaves (age 30-45) for my S&M leather scenes. Sling and my saw-horse action for T / T, boot scenes, B / T & stretching, cigars, hot wax, piss, B&D, whipping & degradation. Interested in tattooed & pierced men esp. Only tight assholes who know their worthlessness need apply for S&M & fucking action by this MASTER! MASTER: W., 34, 180#, 61*, 30* W. & 42°C, bodybuilder, piercings & tattoned, mustache, cigar-cigarette smoker. N fems, fats or novices! Box 3796.

GET SLEAZY

Aggressive, versatile hunk wanted for kinky scenes—J0, titwork, CBT, WS, verbal trips, I'm 25, tall, solid, beard, hot. Photo appreciated. Box 3781.

MASTER AND SLAVE

HE is 38, it is 28. We have each other for sex—we want you for friendship and good company. Box 3789.

INFIBULATED MAN

Wants to correspond with others who have or desire unusual piercings, engage in or fantasize about erotic foreskin torture, circumcision, cock and ball experiments, etc. Carl Box 3787

BLACK MASTER WANTED Handsome wm, 40, 5'11", 165 lbs.. Fuck my ass or face; piss in me or on me; spank me; have me worship your crotch or ass. No torture. Possible rela- tionship. Ray, P.O. Box 20246, Oakland, 94620

MEXICAN SLAVE / BOTTOM

Strong, masc man needs to be dominated by masc, dominant tall men. Into FF, WS, S&M, Bondage, Fantasies, 33, 57%, 160# weightlifter. Write w / photo. Box 3780.

MODESTO MASTER

Peter S. Your letter answering ad about Desert Training Ranch had no return address. Pls write again. HEXA—D— RANCH, P.O. Box 6269 TORRANCE, CA 90504

GOODLOOKING, BISEXUAL

Idaho, rancher (Sandpoint). Travels world yearly, 36, Into all scenes! Write with picture to P.O. Box 366 San Fran, CA 94109.

RENTABLE 30 Days For $9.95

IF IT'S ON VIDEO, WE HAVE IT! SO WHY SPEND $99,00 TO BUY A HOLLYWOOD OR GAY ADULT VIDEO CASSETTE WHEN YOU CAN RENT IT FROM US FOR 30 DAYS FOR ONLY $9.958

Mail in the coupon today, or visit us in our Manhattan Showroom: 453 West 47th St. (Between 9th and 10th Avenues):

Please rush me FREE information on the International Film & Video Club, including all the exciting options and club benefits.

Name ____ Address _____ City ____

State____Zip___ international Film & video 453 West 47th Street NY NY 10036 212 / 245-8039

HANDSOME BOTTOM

Needs dark-haired topman to worship and serve. Send orders with photo or description. Good looks a must. Box 3764

NORTH. CALIFORNIA —DADDY WANTED—

Tall, bearded daddy in full leather or police uniform, wanted by blond bleu eyed daddies boy (30, 54", 145 lbs). Daddy should be strong, dominant and exp. and be able to guide me in bondage and discipline. Relocation possi Box 3759.

STOCKY, HAIRY, MAN WANTED: By 25, 6', blnd / blu, swimmer's build, nym- phomaniac. Just can't get enough of that hot stuff! I'll swallow it any way you like it, (Chew, lick, gag & choke) for men who dig the best! Photo / phone Box 3804.

SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA

BIG FAT PIG

Los Angeles. Pretty-faced hog- 30, 6'4", 300+ lbs.— seeks masters who know how to use a fat-assed, jello- bellied slave with huge tits and ham-hock thighs. Not much experience, but ALL scenes considered. So if you're into girth, come to L.A. and humiliate this handsome-faced, overgrown pig! Write Box 3179.

SAN DIEGO TOP 6'3"— 40— 190 into all scenes— complete game room— B / D S / M W / S FFA. Leather Hoods— wax tits— etc. 619- 420-8967

BIG FURRY "BEAR" Burly "blue-collar" type W / M (6'1"-232- 33) trim beard, thinning hair; broad hairy shoulders, chest, and back; pliable beer belly; cut 6½", nice butt and strong legs (13E boots) seeks hot uninhibited MEN 24-40 for sweaty lust, fantasy realizations, kinky and / or sensual good times. Stoney @ (213)

666-3206 (Silverlake)/Box 10643, Glendale, CA 91209.

HORNY-WHITE-HOT

Seeks studs into fucking-rimming- sucking. Dildoes-S&M. W / S, Poppers-prolonged ass hole play-versatile (top-bottom) AM, 46, 180 lbs-6' tall- beard-moustache-Give uniforms, good bottom service! Box 3520

HOT RAUNCHY PLAYFUL

W / M, 30, 5'8", 130, goodlooking & trim, pierced tits, hairy chest, moustache and stubble beard, works out. Seeking hot raunchy sessions with guys 18-40 into fucking, sucking, fisting, piss, J / O, spit, armpits, Crisco, hot wax, tit-play, amyl, fun drugs, toys, greasy jock-straps, wet briefs, tight faded levi 501's, ass-play, torn underwear, levi / leather, sweat, fantasies. tom, but top / tradeoff also. Rough scenes or playful good times. Man-toman , 3-ways or groups. Write w / photo if possible: BOX 121, 13624 SHERMAN WAY, VAN NUYS, CA 91405. Yeah! Hot fun!

YOUNG HOT WHITE MASTER 26 yrs old, 5'6", 130 lbs, Brown hair, green-gray eyes, mustache and nice body-Seeks: slaves(s) who need to be owned for life. Also will review requests from slave(s) who seek less permanent service. Forward detailed letter, w / photo to: Lord Stephen, Box 352, Garden Grove, CA 92642-0352.

YOUR ADS GET RESULTS!

ANY REAL ACTION

From dudes who know what the hell they can, and will put out and take, Really know about M / S, B / D, W / S, B / P, Toys, Hoods, Rimming, Pottyseat, Humil, and ????? Let's match 90% for hot action. BlaCKS get 1st place, HAIRY W / M with PHOTO get quick reply, responsi- bility gives all one. No age or size hang up, lets do it, ads are for it. Box 3647.

HOT MASTER TAKING APPLICATIONS

For slave(s). Temporary or permanent servitude considered by hot, 29 yr old. , 145 pound, blond/ blue eyed, dom- 5'9" inant professional. Looks are impor- tant but knowing your place and staying there makes the difference. Limits considered but a slave's duty is to satisfy his master. Masculine mediteranean / latins a plus. Box 3658.

OUR ADS GET RESULTS!

S.L.O. AREA

Young Asian Leatherman seeks friendship (more?) with full leather WM. Box 1632.

MASTER WANTED Into heavy B—D, Shaving, motorcycles, domination, outdoors; slave offers himself completly. Box 3613.

EXPERIENCED KENNEL MASTER Seeks raw human animal for training Object: obedience loyalty development Object: obedience loyalty usersophient. Will consider all breeds from street mutt to pedigreed hunk. Must have strong healthy constitution, spirit and basic intelligence. Not for fantasy seekers or hopeless wrecks. If you worth is as an animal who must have firm direction tempered with warmth understanding and necessary discipline ; then this could be your chance to finally realize your full potential. Your responsibilities will be few; chiefly, house security and companionship. Your opportunities limited only by your will. The San Diego area will be home. Keep in mind that the best animals have good intuition; so follow your instincts. Submit photo address and phone. Box 3581

SLAVE DANNY

Will submit to bondage, tortures, shaving , whipping, piercing of armpits & tits. For parties, photos, groups or one Master. (213)846-9486.

WANTED LEATHER BIKE MASTER

Into motorcycles, shaving, branding, B—D, Heavy Discipline, humiliation, Its, whips, chains, cigars, into outdoors. Master 5:8 or taller, 140 or heavier, 25 years or older, white, Photorequested, slave offers himself patir entirely. Box 3631.

WANTED VERY HANDSOME MASTER

MASTER By very goodlooking 33 year old, 5'11', 165 lb. athletic, nice body, defined stave. Your hot, very handsome, muscular , master. Between 25 to 35 years old, around 6' or faller. Harry chested a plus. In somewhat in-of current diseases, and am looking for a permanent master. Letter with photo to JIM, P.O. Box 20599, Long Beach, CA 90801. If your not real handsome, don't bother

HOT HANDSOME HANDBALLER Climb on top and get inside of this insatiable 59", 26, 160# dark hair, moustached man with deep wide hungry hole. Seeks similar together hot trim fisting buddies for mutual plowing and stuffing each other, into good times, flexable roles expanding limits. Photo— phone Box 3716

USED JOCKS / SHORTS / LEVIS Worn by Heavily Hung Studs plus pics. Send S.A.S.E. to: Box 5191 El Monte, CA 91734.

Wants to serve Sadistic Tops in Uni- form, Boots cleaned, 213-913-3819.

WANTED:

Healthy male slave, any race, 21-35, must be willingly disposed to totally serve, in any and all means, without

reason or question. This property will be personally owned by a Master demanding His slave's whole mind and beniationing its staves whole mind and body in a fully subservient existence, dedicated to its Master and His life style. Send appropriate application humbly to: Master Conrad 1101 E. Costo, Long Beach, CA, 90807, included

LEATHER DISCIPLINE

Hot, Indism w / m 40 611 190# Sadistic, Experienced and widely respected seeks unfullfilled muscular maso- chists. OBJECT: Enlarging the S&M spectrum buy satisfying mutual needs. Rawhide and steel will restrain your row power while whips, wax and weights stimulate your endurance. If you're ready to work up a sweat on your naked flesh and strain your muscles to reach new horizons, contact Frank Albright, Box 84085, San Diego, CA., 92138 or call 619-260-8196 (after 11 pm).

PERCECO, TATTOOB

Bearded, 6', 1556', w / m, mid-40's, look-\ning for L / L, boot-lickin', piss-drinkin', grease/ oil-lovin', bondage slave to shave. Must be willing to expand limits on plercings, tatloos, C / B / TT/, W / S, on pler

BLACK MUSCLEMAN TOP Wanted by blond bodybuilder, into: bondage, leather, CBT, Shaving, vacuum, Total service, Am hardwork-ing , stable, professional, building gameroom and gym. Have much physi- cal & mental potential. 1st ad, serious only pls. Photos retrnd. #245 8306 Wil- shire Blvd. Beverly Hills Ca. 90211.

S / M ART GALLERY

Experienced art dealer is considering possibility of opening a Leather-S / M- Macho-Fetish art gallery. Interested painters, sculptors, photographers, models, etc. submit photos of work, suggestions, and feedback to Box 3772.

SADIST WANTED

By masochist for expanding my limits in all scenes. No drugs or shaving. Available weekends. Box 3656.

BLACK SADIST WANTED To torture my white body as he wishes. Box 3777.

L.A. ORANGE CO. W / M

Hot top looking for bottoms for bon- dage & C.B.T. in my well equipped play- room. George Bx 5641 Hunt. Bch. CA 92646. (714)848-9801.

THICK COCK Dad over 35, 180 LBS, W / S, spank. For Monterey boy 24. Must send photo. Box 3765.

MASSEUR; ATHLETE; LOW RATE; FILMS; TOTAL EUROPEANOUN! 213-769-9427

SUPER HOT LITTLE STUD 31, 5'4", 125, perfect gymnist body into domination, verbal seeks horney butch bottom or 3-way. Box 46277 Hollywood 90046.

TELEPHONE

NUMBERS DRUMMER and MANIFEST will now accept verified telephone numbers in personal ads. Please add $1 to the cost personal aus. Piease add $1 to the cost of the ad if a telephone number is included in the ad copy. If necessary, please indicate to us the best time(s) to verify the number. Commercial ads (Services, Models, Travel, Resor telephone numbers included in their advertising provided that advertisers can provide a business card, letterhead or other printed material on which the phone number to be used appears. There will be no exceptions.

COLORADO

HOUSEBOY SLAVE SON

Under 30 wanted by older experienced sane leatherman who will help you achieve scholastic, career, health, achieve scholastic, career, health, physical & leather goals. Mike P.O. Box 18876 Denver, CO 80218.

HOT DADDY AND BOY Both mature, experienced men into hot threesomes and foursomes. Enjoy bon- dage, T / T, fisting, toys, S / M, fantasies, and plain old hard core sex. If you live in the area or are planning a visit write Box 3132. Send photo, likes & dislikes and we will return it with our photo. We enjoy creative fantasies and sex. Are you man enough to take on two hot men?

YOU CAN NOW LIST YOUR PHONE NUMBER $1 VERIFICATION!

DENVER, COLORADO G / W / M, 40's, 6', 180, very submissive. Seeks meetings with other males for bondage sessions. Race & age unimportant . I have a desire to please. Will answer all who send picture and phone #. Box 3771

DISTRICT OF COLUMBIA

HANDBALL DEVOTEE

170 lbs solid muscle, 5'10", 38, dark, bearded. InterChain 226. I am essentially dominant and totally masculine but can be warm, loving, considerate and always sensual. Self-confidence based on intelligence, experience, maturity, and self-acceptance. Am my own man and not captive of any role. Years of residence in Berlin, Paris and Stockholm have given me European flexibility. Besides FF, am into all sid one-on-ones and group scenes. Sound interesting? Balls in your court. Box

HOUSEBOY / SLAVE WANTED-To serve two very together active GWM's 30's. Be serious, trim, clean, obedient and also like TLC. Reply w / photo & resume to: SIRS POB 50286 WASH. D.C. 20004.

FLORIDA

FT. LAUDERDALE MASCULINE

FT. LAUDENDALE MASCULINE Imaginative, dominant Master seeks together bottom studs into FF. WS, bondage, S&M, C&B / T, piercing, shaving, etc., for 3-way with in-house slave. Can administer heavy discipline, but limits are re Photo and mailing address a must, phone optional. Am 47, 165 lbs, 7" cut with big balls and big hands. FF is optional, but am a special delight for wide receivers. Box 258.

FT. LAUDERDALE

Masculine, stable, good looking top with firm but gentle style seeks subjects for "training." Reasonable limits respected. Applicant will include photo and phone in letter of application. Jake, Box 130051, 2260 NW 68th Ave FL 33313.

WANTED: SLAVE/ LOVER

M:wh, un36, some exper Ithrsex, slim or musc, could re-locate, educ, mature. S:Wh, 40, educ, finan secure, 6'3", BB, Handsome, completely masc & dom, has Full Ithr & equip, boots, toys for It to hvy S&M, B&D, VA, CBTT, WS, GrA, FrP, Respect lim, but we'll expand them.

M:describe self & exper, phone#, recent photos, turn-ons & offs, any limits to

S:Answer w / more info & specs, my pics, Plan me your area/ you visit S.Fla. Mr. Sir, Box 11816, Ft. Laud., Fla.33339.

YOUR ADS GET RESULTS!

WET LEVIS… 2 Hot lovers into wet Levis bedwetting. diapers and plastic pants. Enjoy cor- respondence, photos, and meeting other hot guys into same. John & John P.O. Box 315, Sarasota, Fla. 33578.

GOODLOOKING GWM

6' 155 lbs. in 40's who is stable and secure. Seeks companion that is inven- tive and fun company. #1058 Winter Park, FL. 32790

ORLANDO

J / O artist wants buddy. Box 3784

CLEARWATER, 33, 6'2", 175 Bearded, thick uncut 8". Needs bottom who knows how to ask for and EARN my big dick. Details and photo to Sir, Box 3773

TAMPA BAY, 33, 6'2", 180 Seeking a good little cocksucker who knows how to beg for my big uncut dick. If your face and ass need a workout , send detailed letter & photo to Box 3773.

GEORGIA

MS, WM, 36, 6' Into B&D, S&M, C&B, whips, toys, boots, Fr A / P, Gr A / P, 69, susp, 501 levis, and ball work. No FF, scat, WS, drugs, damage. Phone a must. Travel. Box 3276.

HOT, HORNY WHITE MALE Versatile (Top or bottom) seeks others into fucking, fisting, rimming, sucking, dildoes, S&M, W / S, poppers, Levis, leather, boots. Am 27, 150 lbs, 5ft10in. with short brown hair, brown eyes, beard, moustache. No fats, fems, blacks. Bridwell, Box 12348, Atlanta, GA 30355-2348

YOUNG SLAVES, SONS

Or young hunky men may apply to a real bodybuilder for versatile action. Obedience, admiration and honesty required. Only responses with a photo will be considered! Box 3076.

500 EXEC TRANS

Atl 1 Oct. seeks modest N.W. Apt- /Guest / Carriage House, Refs CGS Box 486. Jacksonville, FL 32201.

STUD SLAVE WANTED

Minimum physical requirements: 6', 200 lbs. Must know how to satisfy & be ready to perform on demand. Failure will bring the whip & other disclipins; to which slave will bow without bondage. Applicants may submit a short state- ment with photo to: Sig. II Contes, 2223- B Plaster Rd. N.E., Atlanta, GA, U.S.A. 30345.

ILLINOIS

ENEMA / ASS SLAVES

2 Masters seek hot "naughty boys" under 30 to completely surrender their ass. You must be willing to submit to total complete submission, bondage, humiliation and to accept spankings, diapers, shaving and all forms of Gr/ demanded of you. And lots of old fashioned soapy enemas that will make you squirm, beg, cry. First-timers and novice welcome— limits respected. Send explicit application with photo for prompt reply. Box 3237.

GERMAN MASTER Hairy men in need of discipline apply to tough but caring German (handsm, blond, blue, hung, uncut). Photos are essential. Novices OK. P.O.B. 6262, Chi-cago , IL 60680.

Leather Works

4307 Montrose Houston, TX 77006 (713) 529-0120

Complete leather products available. See our new store on Montrose or at the Ripcord.

Send for our free catalog:

I am 21 years of age.

LONGJOHN GUYS WANTED Into underwear/ longjohn scenes incl. B&D/ HUM. Jay 606 W. Barry #179 Chi-cago IL 60657

SADISTIC MASTER

31, 6', 185, 61 / 2" seeks slave who knows his place, and is looking for ONE master . Serious novice considered. Any limits will be EXPANDED! SIR! Chicago, (312) 261-6085.

CHICAGO, WHITE MALE 41, 6'2", 190# wants to undergo frater- nity type initiation and humiliation. Make my week-end a hell week-end for me and fun for you. Compensation considered if necessary. Box 2630 Chicago 60690

W / M SLAVE 25, 55", 125 lbs., strikingly handsome, muscular swimmer's build seeks huge, muscular master. Am ALD S. conscious novice, so explore but respect me to my limits. Send NOW letter, photo well of the seeks of the se

W / M 38 NEEDS TO SERVICE

Top 30s-40s. Like to be fed and watered frequently. Love leather, levis, beer drinkers, sweat, all body fluids. Will answer all with respect. Photo appre- ciated, will return. Karl, 836 Wheeler St., Woodstock, Illinois 60098 - 815- 338-9137

INDIANA

MIDWEST ACTION Hunky, Handsome, Kinky, 33, 5'9½", 175, w / m wants uninhibited hot men who enjoy top, bottom or mutual play. Can get into nearly anything; fantasy, bondage, humililation, rimming, leather, rubber, w / s, socks, boots, outdoor / barnyard plus more—or just plain touching, holding sincere sex, hiero Discrete professional looking for good times and honest friends, can travel. Photo if possible; will return. Confidentiality assured. Box 128, Des Moines, lowa 50301.

KANSAS

COP OR HITLER TYPE

Dominant, masculine, wanted for perm. partnership. W / M 33, 135#, 6'. Brwn / Brwn. I'm into ass eating, ball licking, cocksucking, and getting fucked. Your looks not as important as attitude. Would like pic. Will ans. all. JMR 520 E.Park Apt. 19, Olathe, KAN-SAS 66061

LOUISIANA

LEATHER / POLICE UNIFORMS New Orleans. WM, 35, Leather, Police Uniforms, boots, B&D, S&M. Seeks same. Am turned on by touch, smell, taste and feel of Leather, High black boots, Full police uniform and gear. I seek a few discreet men into the same. Occasionally travel. Box 1579.

OUR ADS GET RESULTS!

SKINNY BLACK MASTER 32, seeks slave / dog 18-35 who will drink my piss and take my hot cock up his boy-cunt. For application send photo and info to P.O. Box 122, Terre Haute. IN 47808

MARYLAND

BODYBUILDER SLAVE DC / VA / MD AREA GWM 38, 5'10", 170, 43" chest, 30" waist.

Masculine, well-built, lean / muscular. Seek similar Master. Fr, Gr, B / D, whipping , 3794 whatever your pleasure. Box

MASSACHUSETTS

ARROGANT WRITER

Strictly top 33 w bald moustache ff ws tt right bottom man. Box 3799.

SLAVEBOYS

Master / daddy seeks smooth slaves- /guinea pigs for wild times. Master into S&M, bondage, w / s, enemas, shaving, tit, cock & ball work, scat, F.F., hot wax, rubber. Name your fantasies. All scenes. Travel U.S. Other tops also reply. W / M, 5'6", 130, 35 level headed. Apply with phone to Box 3788.

ASSHOLE EXPLORATION 33 yr. W / M 6' 170 LB ME: Tight black leather chaps, boots. YOU: Hot horny asshole into FF, punch fucking, asshole stretching. Box 3782.

MICHIGAN

DETROIT AREA Firm MASTER, 5'10", 155 lbs. brown hair and eyes, 8". With well-equipped dungeon seeks obedient slaves. Willing to train submissive novices into S&M B&D, and much more. Write: Robert 1030 Adams Road South, Rochester, Michigan 48063.

MICHIGAN THUMB AREA PROFESSIONAL

Time to talk & time for action. Under standing master contact by letter TOM BOX 104 CASS CITY MICH. 48726.

EXECUTIVE SPANKING

Bearded WM 32 enjoys giving over the knee spankings to hot, bare-assed white businessmen 25-50. Come to me in your 3 piece suits-I'll turn you over my knee, take down your pants, spank you on your executive boxer shorts or corporate jockies, then pull them down and spank your ass till you beg me to stop. No heavy S&M, just hand, hair-bright and spank your sets till yo brush, or ruler spankings. I also enjoy being top in other spanking lantasies: Teacher—Student, Father—Son, etc. Send descriptive letter. Photo / phone appreciated. Marrieds welcome. Dis- cretion and a hot ass assured. South- field area. Bay 3766 field area. Box 3766.

MINNESOTA

MASTER SEEKS SLAVE

TWIN CITY MASTER, 39, white, seeks permanent slave / houseboy who needs to be owned. Prefer young (however all considered), trim or muscular, clean, obedient, submissive and ready for slavery in mind. Novice okay, will train. If you know you were meant to be a slave, write submissive, groveling letter now and don't forget to include a photo. Box 3251

WANTED: WMBC

White male butch ghost to haunt victorian mansion in Duluth, MN. Into whips, chains, and groaning. Also victorian sports, no chickens, fems or fats apply. Send holograph, references, and list of talents to: R. Jansen 1215 E 2nd St., Duluth, MN 55805.

BEGINNER

33, 6'2", 165, seeks topman for B / D, VA, fucking, W / S and ?? Am anxious to learn and explore my limits. Box 3779.

MISSOURI

MILITARY TRAINING

3 Military Drill instructors will administer discipine, physical training, cell confinement, & prolonged immobile restraint in a realistic military atmosphere for weekend or week long sessions Safe, sane, discreet and monitored confinement for Boot Camp, Stockade, or POW training, Mummifi- cation, sensory deprivation, controlled breathing situations also available, Individual or buddy system entry. No FF, Scat, Drugs. Fee required, References available. Address Serious Inquiries to: Training Center Information, P.O. Box 672, Bridgeton, MO 63044, All replies answered. (314-867-7233)

ST. LOUIS— W / M—27, 250, 6'2" Bearded / Hairy, New to scene. Looking for same to

& let's get off togethe CALL NOW (213) 464-5301 My friends and I are waiting M.C. VISA or send $25. to DAVID Suite #606 1765 North Highland Ave. Hollywood, Calif. 90028

STALLION PHONE FANTASIES

The Hottest Studs in the west are waiting to ride with you into sheer and total ecstasy. Cum on and call our stable now!

1 Call $25

(213) 467-4142 24 hrs.

Discreet Calls

All Major Credit Cards Fantasy Club Membership Available

The BEST is not always expensive

DECON

For the best sex in the west!

MasterCard, VISA and AMEX show me all gay fun from kissing to leather, for friendship and possible one-on-one relationship.Beard and body hair a real turn-on. Letters with photo / phone answered quickly. Box 3761.

NEW JERSEY

FANTASY FUN Your fantasy of being tied to a three trunk tree in a secluded patio can come (201)359-3824. No calls after true. 11p.m.

DESPARATE DAD-

Lost everything in recent move to East. Would welcome expliced letters and photos. Really horned for your juicy company, to help me relocate. No trade or sell, just collector minus one major collection. This 40 year old needs con- tacts in NYC or Philly—can these studs take it like ny boys in LA—prove it! Box 3800

NJ OR NY Gay dominant W / Male 57 years old wants a mature slave over 35 for S / M. T / T, watersports, whipping with hand, belt. Photo & phone. Box 3783.

NEW YORK

TOTAL SLAVES WANTED

Greenwich Village. Experienced S, W / m, 48, 5'9", 175 lbs. uncut, shaved head, strong Leather Master seeks slaves (novice to well-trained) for long, hot sessions. Must have endurance, crave punishment in chains. Medium to heavy S / M, B / D, etc. No scat. My motto: sane S / M; intense, not brutal; erotic, not reckless; firm but affectionate . If your head is right, write appropriate letter now. No fems, fats, fakes. Box 185R.

MASCULINE LEATHER HOLE Very handsome Leo BB, 26, 6'6", 205#, blond, smooth. Big hungry butt, throat for long, exploring sessions. FF, leather, fitwork, piss, toys, S&M, many things if approached with right attitude. You: hot, experienced, together. Hairy muscles a special turnon. Train me, guide me, lead me to new levels through trust & respect, not violence or humiliation. Include photo / phone. Your place. Box 3338.

NEW YORK CITY BOTTOM W / m, 57", 135 lbs., brown hair, brown eyes, moustache, hairy. Hot ass, wants to be bound & fucked. Also into B / D, W / S, shaving, spanking, light S / M, enemas, polaroids, toys. Seeks patient & understanding topman to teach and help me expand my limits. Must be 25- 40, good body, attractive, Photo & phone appreciated, Box 3373.

(212)672-1010 TOP / INSATIABLE

JKSN HTS, ONS

W / m, 6 / 160 / bro / bro, You now know all you need to know about this insatiable top, who's always looking for true bottoms, short of talk, but long on their capability to absorb both unlimited verbal & physical abuse. Having worn both the green of the army, as well as the blue of the navy, will obviously give preference to former members of the military and / or married slobs, who realize it is their preordained destiny in life to receive cock, as oppose to giving it. Box 3381

W / M 36 145 LBS

With little experience seeks Master to train body and mind for His pleasure and enjoyment. Will consider permanent slavery. Prefer tall no nonsense Master to help reach fulfillment as obe- dient slave. Box 3432.

MEN OVER 40

Age and strength deserve respect. WM, 28, 5'4", 135, dk hr, brd, hry, musc, new to NYC, inexp but enth, sks WM 40+ top / master, brd, hry, (pref) musc for reg trng sessions. Spend 20 cents and 10 minutes. I'm worth it. Box 3344.

MOTORCYCLE LEATHERMAN

Let's have leather sex on and off our bikes. Slaves invited if you can take B&D, C&BT, TT, SM, WS, etc. Novice will be trained. Men from areas of NY, CT, NJ, MASS. Write me with details and photo. Box 3035.

SPITOON BOOTWIPE URINAL

Drooling deviate dog grovels for beer drinkin', cigar-smokin', ass-kickin', straight men: ex-con toilet slurps cop-snot , trucker-feet, biker-butt for public humiliation: retarded dude is Daddy's queer-boy forever. Am real tough, real dirty, real hung short lean blond w / stash. Filthy letter w / pix gets same, Sir! First ad. NYC Metro. Box 3535.

MID-HUDSON VALLEY

Masculine, bearded, master 33, 6', 160 lbs, with hot dungeon and thick cock will restrain you and explore your limits if you're hot, trim, and under 35. Reply with Photo and Phone #. J. Miller, 156 Wall St. Kingston, NY 12401.

NEW YORK CITY I am 33, 57", 140 lbs, brown hair and brown eyes, submissive bottom man, into most scenes except heavy pain, scat and F / F. Seek top man, 30-40. Box 3373

CAPTIVE MUSCLEMEN

(Zeus publ. bondage- coercion scenes) Seek athletic/ masc./ musc. B.B.'s Into elaborate verbal, rough, B.B.S. into elaborate verbal, rough, man-to-man B&D, leading to your cock/ balls/ lits/ ass being chained, whipped, clamped, stretched, oiled, waxed, used any way your master / captor sees fit, forcing you to admit what you cules/ Tarzan by strong, demanding, imaginative gladiator/ sex master. Photo, phone, address, detailed des- cription of what you're man enough for required. Apply now for night of your life. No hustlers/ fakes/ fems. Box 3566

HOT PISS SLAVE

W / M, 32, 5'8", 160 lbs, muscular, seeks uncut piss master. Also bondage. Novice to S / M: no heavy pain, must respect limits Hungry ass into toys. No SCAT, heavy SM. Reply with photo (required) + description of your fantasies . Box 3564

CLASSY B&D NYC / WORLDWIDE

Be stylish. Assume Correctional Custody of an intelligent, attractive, adult, Anglo-Saxon, pukka batman who'll stand at attention when not confined and securely restrained. Strict discipline and expert training will widen my pline and expert raining will wildening horizons and heighten your satisfaction. Sir. Tie me, try me. Appointments open for preliminary interrogation, plus imposition of nonjudicial punishment (Article 15 UCMJ) at Office H Box 3092

OUTDOOR ORGYS

Leather, levis, tits, recycled beer, B&D, S&M, Older Daddies O.K. Mid-Hudson Valley, Western Connecticut/ Massachusetts. Write Cedar Knoll, RD #2, Box 414, Rhinebeck, N.Y. 12572.

RUBBER SLAVE SEEKS RUBBER MASTER

Longterm Bondage head to toe rubber inflation, hoods, suspension, assplay, enemas, FF, your way clean or dirty, am 26, 6', Blnd, Blu, Boyish, Lean, Full Rubber / Latex only. Box 3776.

MEDICAL / SLAVE

Send your personal history. Include both fantasies and what you truly

want. Reply only if you are a true bottom. To P.O.BOX 148, N.Y.C. 10016.

PUPPY SEEKS BULLDOG Butch Ital 5'9 165 32 seeks dom beer bellied bruts who enjoy dominating a dog collared slave. If you're between 57" to 5'10" 180 to 250 write with photo to P.O. BOX 3058 Church St. PO NY NY 1008 Phot 10008. Photo rtnd with mine.

53 YEARS YOUNG

Hard cock, receptive nipples. Looking for same. Lite S&M, B&D, spreadeagle. Box 3768.

NYC MASTER AND SLAVE We're both in our 30's, over 6', blonde, muscular and attractive. Aspirant slaves who are under 35, muscular and attractive are invited to submit a request for consideration as a slave trainee. Successful applicant will be taught obedience, obeisance and endurance . Send photo (required) with resume. Box 673.

RAUNCHMAN PIG SLAVE 33, 5'11", 160 lbs of total filth. Box 3769.

MATURE 49

Seek humpy truck driver, constr worker, leather; Levi S-M, FF send photo & phone to Box 3762.

S / M ART GALLERY

Experienced art dealer is considering possibility of opening a Leather-S / M- Macho-Fetish art gallery. Interested painters, sculptors, photographers, models, etc. submit photos of work, suggestions, and feedback to Box 3772.

MASTER / TOP / DADDY

Wants slave, bottom, daddy's boy for occasional meetings. Top does travel. Bottom must be real. Write detailing all, to P.O. BOX 148, N.Y.C. 10016.

NORTH CAROLINA

MASTER SEEKS SLAVE

There are many men who want to be a slave, but cannot find the guts to do so. Most of you who have called or written wasted my time. Some of you were serious but lazy. Some of you were serious but afraid. ALL of you STILL seek a master! And I still seek a slave …for obedience, total commitment, punishment (when needed), and love (when earned). I am DEADLY SERIOUS! And so are YOU! Now DO something about it! Call Randy. (704) 324-1465, or write to 1305 11th Avenue, S.E., Box 24, Hickory, NC 28601.

COUNTRY BOY

29 6'1" 185 lbs. Blonde/ Blue, tattoos Marine looking into leather and hot sex. Seeks 18 to 35 masculine looking men, uncut preferred not a must. Send photo for response PO Box 338 Pine Level, N.C. 27568.

FULL BODY EXPERIENCE PROVIDED:

Leather and rubber bondage, electrical ball and cock torture, tit work…ulti- mate pleasure pain share with together bottom. Chair, sling, cement floor. Will switch positions with good top man. Into mutual bondage experiences. P.O. Box 2912, Ashville, NC 28802.

41 YR OLD MAN

Seeks occaisional encounters with mature (35+ over) versitile (Top and Bottom) Leather-Biker, in Charlotte N.E. area. Write: Boxholder, P.O. 37248, Cht., NC 28237

SLAVE NEEDS TRAINING W / M needed for undisciplined slave who responds well to strap, enemas and other punishments - short or long term. Box 3778.

HORNY Needs well hung 8" Master. Has beard, moustache. 6'5", 240 lbs. Master between 20-45 uncut or cut. In to fuck-ing and sucking, likes poppers, tight- asses, likes hairy bodies. Love to have a uncut sausage and thick to suck and get fucked. Photos appreciated. Box 3798.

LEATHER

2 Hot young Leathermen, want to make it with another Hot Leatherman. Let's get together for some hot 3-way LEATHER SEX. Photo in LEATHER gets OURS. Write: P.O. Box 5805, Norman, OK 73070.

MAN WITH HOT MOUTH Wants to hear from gay and bi-sex, males for sex. 21 to 50. Call (215) 831- 1594 AFTER 6 p.m. James.

NORTH DAKOTA

RANCH / RODEO COWBOY 24. W / M Cowboy, 150, 5'9", needs another Cowboy for leather action. Brn. Blue eyed Cowboy into all Cowboy gear including chaps, boots, spurs, gloves, levis, hats & rubbing leather clad crotches. Versatile, ready for any action with another Cowboy only. Cow- boys reply to C.R., Box 87, Mandan, North Dakota 58554.

OHIO

CINCINNATI LEATHERMAN/ MOTORCYCLIST 41, likes the hot smell of a man. Hairy bodies, raunchey arm pits, smelly ass. Let's rim, suck, piss, kiss and fuck 'till it all tastes and smells the same. Your photo gets mine. P.O. Box 41326 Cinti., Ohio 45241.

IN SEARCH OF OLDER MEN? LOOK RIGHT HERE!

OKLAHOMA

OK CITY DADDY

45, 170 lbs., 5'10", muscular, wants sub- missive Daddy's boys into hot scenes. SM, B&D, WS, shaving, and all other scenes considered. You name it, you get it. Phone/ photo to Box 2099.

RODEO COWBOY W, 5'10", 150 lbs, 25 yo, goodlooking, good body, seeks other cowboys to get it off in tight fittin' 501 levis, big silver buckles, leather chaps, and hot spurred cowboy boots. Cowboys, lets get together and rub leather, jeans, and boots. Need my tight bulging crotch took care of. Photos in riggen will get mine. Box 3145.

WANTED SLAVE

Tulsa Leathermaster wants slim slave for hot action. Limits expanded or respected. Phone Rod at (918)665-1885 or reply with photo to P.O. Box 54760, Tulsa, OK 74155. No phone jackoff.

OREGON

BIG MAN

Top, 40, Good looking, hairy, bearded, 6'1", 225 lbs, muscular will work your ass, cock, balls, nipples & entire body & mind. Into 880, TT, W / S, FF. Recent photo with reply to: Pete, P.O. Box 42476, Portland, Oregon 97242.

PENNSYLVANIA

REAL MASTER

Needed for heavy bondage, total control, Weekend Confinement, and Discipline . Slave is 35, untamed, able to travel to master's location. Please send orders with phone & photo to P.O. Box 2091, Philadelphia, PA 19103.

HOT TOUGH YOUNG M

6'2", 170 lbs, 27 yrs, 81 / 2", very athletic needs to be trained by demanding hard master into domination, endless fuck- ing, ass play-toys, B&D, light S&M, huge cocks-very deep throat. Expand my limits as you see fir- Sir. J.B. 100 Denniston St. Apt.#12 Pittsburgh, PA 15206

TENNESSEE

LEAN, INTENSE, SENSUAL

Bi-sex man is interested in locating another natural man who realizes his meed for a buddy who knows the honest gut-pleasure—through trust—of dis- covering and sharing the touch, smell, taste and sound only a man comfortable with himself can provide. The energy I want to share is so basic and honest, it seems few 'gags' know it exists. Long, slow, mind-n-soul fuckin is where it all begins. If you, too, need a man who'll openly and proudly share what he knows and has, you may have found your partner! I'm 6ft., 1 moustache; with a natural, uncut dick that'll hang a heavy 7 inches for the buddy that talks to it right. Dig sweat, hair, holes, nipples, foreskin, lo- swingin' balls, and other natural delights. If you're interested and got the balls to talk straight, shoot a no bull- shit note my way. Travel is possible. Box 0061

OUR ADS GET RESULTS!

TEXAS

DALLAS THIRSTY AND HOT 43, 5'8", 150. Heavy piss, raunchy socks, and tit action. Photo required and exchanged. Box 3045.

SLAVE(S) SON? LOVER?

Dominant, versatile, educated professional, w / m 47, 511*, 175* accepting applications. You must be mature, masculine, well-proportioned, willing to serve. Any race or age. No drugs or drunks. NOVICE O with needs, desires, uses, work, etc. Hdqtrs— Houston, Naked servitude? Permanent live-in possible, or I can travel. MASTER BUD. Also, opening for a master. Box 3329.

TIGHT LEVIS AND LEATHER W 5'10" 150 lbs, 25 yo, good body, seeks others into tight fitten' Levis or black leather pants, boots and cycle jacket. Lets get together and rub leather til its hot. Have cycle to travel. Photo in leather gets mine. Box 3115.

SON SEEKS MOIST DADDY

GWM, 32, 5'11", 170 lbs, handsome, well-built seeks Daddy 25-50, hung, built, handsome, hopefully uncut & cigar smoker for love, hot sex, attention. Son likes to be tucked, W / S. C / B, needs toilet training, tits. Daddy, please send letter with photo and your worn jock. Your response gets same, JDD, PO Box 191122, Dallas, TX 752

HOUSTON EX-COP

Seeks dominant leather/ uniform top to expand my limits in B&D, S&M, I am W / M 28, 5'11", 185, Hairy, No fats, fems, blacks, scat. Have full Police Gear; Photo appreciated. Box 3702.

IF HE'S NOT HERE HE'S NOT AVAILABLE

DIRTY MIND - CLEAN BODY

Submissive romantic, 25, turns on to private humiliation, verbal abuse, piss, rough play. Wants Mr. Right for a monogamous relationship and lifelong commitment. I'm goodlooking, slender. If sexual fidelity isn't your goal, don't write. "Jack", P.O. Box 64405, Dallas, TX 75206.

UTAH

TWO HOT HORNY TOPMEN

Looking for a new toy to play with. Both 36, both mean as hell. We work together, separately, and we alternate to handle the most recalcitrant of to Manue the most recalcitrant of slaves, who shows his point, spanking, piss, verbal abuse, and exploration of all fantasies. Master Larry, 62°, b / b, 175 lbs., good body. Master Michael: 5'6", b / b, 145 lbs., 9½° and thick slaves who can handle total domination and complete control of mind and body. Don't answer unless you mean it. body. Uoh t answer unless you mean in. You will be used, abused and trained and if you get it right you might find permanence with us. Application must contain a recent photo, virial statistics, experience resume, and Sandy, Utah 84091.

VIRGINIA

BLONDE, BLUE-EYED VIRGINIA FARMER In good shape (5'10", 150 lbs) wants to

Open Daily 6:00 AM-2:00 AM Live Bands-Fri. & Sat. Eves. Dancing Nightly Cocktail Hour Mon-Fri 5 pm-7 pm Established 16 years 1225 Folsom, SF 552-9405

Book No. 40 $5.00 (postage $2.) CALENDARS by REX ('79, '81 & '82) $5. each (all 4 for $18. inclds, postage)

Catalog of Calendars, Greeting Cards, Magazines, Posters, 'T' Shirts and more, $3.00 (refundable)

COMMUNICATE

336 6th Street, San Francisco, CA 94103 MON-SAT NOON-SIX • (415) 777-4643 All Major Credit Cards Honored.

(Dealer Inquiries Welcomed.) Please state that you are over 21 and wish to receive this material.

FOLSOM PAGE

WITH MAGNETIC DISC WEIGHTS! ALL THE PLEASURE-PAIN OF EXCELLENT PINCHER PLUS QUICK INSTANT ADD ON OR REMOVE FEATURE!

No. 810-M (comes with two 1 / 2-02. weights $9.95 pr.) additional weights .75c ea. (postage $1.50)

A TASTE OF LEATHER 336 6th St. (415) 777-4643 San Francisco 94103 OPEN MON-SAT NOON-SIX (Closed Sun.) ALL MAJOR CREDIT CARDS HONORED

share bikes, leather, bondage & affection w/ soul brother. Box 3685.

WASHINGTON

LEATHER SON SLAVE

Seeks leather Daddy into leather, uniforms, boots, SM, CBTA Torture and taking care of Daddy. I'm WM, 35, 6°, 170#, bearded bodybuilder. Rewarded with friendship and cuddling would be nice. Send letter with photo to Box 24 3487.

SON / SLAVE

Seeks Seattle Daddy / Master. Yng 32 w / m 140 lbs. 5'9". Needs discipline- /training for body and mind to please Daddy. Box 3760.

BOTTOM MAN Longview. 5'8", 145 lbs., cut, 26, blonde, into S / M, T / T, cut men only, no fats. Photo, Box 3775.

MOTORCYCLE LEATHERMAN Capricorn, 672", 43, 190, well-hung, dark brown eyes, moustache, silver-gray hair. Told I'm hot and goodlooking. Harley and BMW rider / owner. Normally top, but into both roles with right to remutal e many top, but mid both roles with fight partner for mutual exploration. Turnons: hot leather action, boots, hunky deep throats, wild receptive asses with good tight bodies, orgies, bikes and recycled beer. Turnoffs: fats, Recent photo and letter gets response. Reply Box 3793.

OUR ADS GET RESULTS!

WASHINGTON STATE

W / M hunky butch top - 32 yrs seeking muscular butch bottom. Should have bodybuilder football player type build. I am dominant, top man into serious sex. Must be together, clean, secure in your own masculinity as I am in mine. I am into fucking, rimming, light S / M & CBTA torture and some b more — will respect your limits — rela- tionship possible if chemistry right. Your photo gets mine — will reply to all honest responses with recent photo. Box 3774.

WISCONSIN

INTELLIGENT MEN MILWAUKEF / RACINE AREA: 35, 150 lbs, 58", 6", blond, blue eyed, moust-ached , Levi / Western / Leatherman. French A / P, Greek A / P. Raimmaker, Rimming, Tits & toys. Write if you're 6.65 but blooking black bair, da 35-45, butch looking, black hair, dark eyes, 5'8" or taller. Interests: Bars / all types; travel; movies; food; music; baseball. Uniform cops / firemen a turn- on. Discretion assured. Box 3528.

SLAVE NEEDED

27 yr old Master, 6'0" 195 lbs- Muscular , is seeking a young slave boy. Slave must be slim or hunky, smooth chested, baby faced and prefer slave younger than master. Slave should be totally obedient & ready for B&D, TT CB / T; & whippings. Upper half nude picture requested, nude picture pre- ferred. Master is level headed. Box 3607.

CANADA

BOTTOM, 37, 5'9", 160 LBS. Bearded, mustache likes to submit to big and strong dominant masters. Into big and strong dominant massies. Inchimiliation, verbal abuse, bodyworship, armpits, tits, CB, feet, rimming, WS, bondage, shaving, some SM, fantasies. Limits to be respected but can be carefully expanded. Willing to try n with photo get priority. Box 3770.

BUDDIES IN B.C.

Central Interior, looking for playmates into toys, light S&M, B&D, WS, fun times 3. Age and appearance not as important as adventurous uninhibited attitude. Photo and phone number gets quick response with ours. Lets get to

ATTENTION SLAVES

Master / bodybuilder 29, 6', 165 accepting applications from guys to 30 for full or part time slavery. I'm into all scenes but FF, scat, heavy pain or causing serious injury. I will respect and expand your limits. First timers, welcome. Now send a detailed application with photo to: Daryle. Box 3785.

DADDIES AND THEIR BOYS MEET RIGHT HERE!

IMAGINATIVE SLIM MID-30s

Guy seeks dedicated storm trooper / leather / uniformed / jackbooted individual for neck oriented bondage sessions. Box 5327 Station "A", Toronto, Canada M5W IN6.

SLAVE BOY

25, 5'10", 155 seeks sadistic but sane Master to expand my limits in B / D, W / S, other areas. Occasional or long term relationship possible. Can relo- cate for right Master. Box 3786.

SEEKING ASSHOLE BANDIT Hot hole beefy buns. Spank fuck fist 32 6*170 firm body, sexy, hairy, hung and greedy, Amyl, smoke, toys, fantasy all fine. Intelligence and sense of humor help. Toronto. Box 3763.

CANADA Montreal area. 5'8", 160", 31 waist, 40, mustache. Novice looking for leather bondage. I need a Master who will take control and guide me through moderate to heavy actions. No FF, scat — I am French Canadian but I speak a little English — I drive a bike — I travel New York and New England country. Box 3758.

FOREIGN MAIL

When answering foreign ads with box numbers, remember to include the correct amount of overseas airmail postage. Current rates are 40¢ per ½ ounce. Letters without correct postage will be destroyed.

AUSTRALIA

MELBOURNE

Know anybody here? Dominating, raunchy, macho topmen in leather, levi's and jockstraps wanted for kinky times with a submissive bottom 45, 6'3" and 190 lbs who is into bondage, ws, tit, ass and c&b play. Box 3332.

GERMANY

LIMITLESS DIRTSCENES

Wanted by experienced male 42, 5'11' Wanted by experience male 42, 511, 160, looking for pigs into mutual and top. Tit work, piss, snot, scat, puke, enemas, sweat, beer and trips. Also have a lot of rubber and leather gear. Like oil, mud, grease, catheter, fo contacts. Box 3285

YOU CAN NOW LIST YOUR PHONE NUMBER $1 VERIFICATION!

SOUTH GERMANY

Two hot extra hung studs, 29, 180 lbs, and 44, 170 lbs, into three ways with good looking mature (30-50) bearded versatile masculine men. Box 3165.

ITALY

ACTIVE SLAVE

Italian,39 real sportsman, brown hair, trainan, or real sportsman, provintian, geen eyes, muscular, macho type desire to service muscular master. I'm into heavy training whips, tit forture, F.F. verbal abuse etc. Prefer body-builder. Travel in USA. Hospitality required which gets mine in return. Write to: PATENTE MI 2804738J — FERMO POSTA CORDUSIO - MILANO ITALY

MODELS NORTHERN CALIFORNIA

SAN FRANCISCO'S FINEST

SAN FHANCISCO'S FINEST Male models & companions/ Handsoome— Masculine Men!/ Clean-Cut —Well Groomed!/ Versatile—Well-Endowed !/ Warm— Friendly Models!/ Fresh As The Morning Dew!/ All Types For All Types/ Bikers— Leathermen Swimmers— Jocks/ Guy Next Door/ College Students/ Bodybuilders/ Buis- nessmen/ Wrestlers/ VIP Models. Turn your fantasy into reality. Discreet & confidential arrangements by the hour, day or week. Around town or around

HATFIELD HOUSE presents

FRANK O'ROURKE author of

DRUMMER'S

Captain Morgan & Prison Punk in a New Series of Hard-Assed Male-on-Male Cassette Tapes

S / M Action & Advice From The Master

Please send me:

Title

Introductory Lecture

THE MASTER No. 1 Introductory Lecture

THE SLAVE No. 1 WHIP FIRE

(Live Whipping Action)

PORN CALLS (Hot & Sexy)

SAILING TO HELL

Total Tapes x $10.00 $ 2.00 Shipping & Handling

Sales Tax

S S

I certify that I am over 21 years old.

Date Signature We cannot fill your order without your signature . Enclose check or money order to:

HATFIELD HOUSE P.O. BOX 14128 SAN FRANCISCO, CA 94114

(31 Rogers / SF. CA)

CHAPS $99! PANTS $139!

It's here! The finest line of top-grain leather clothes, accessories and erotic toys FACTORY DIRECT, save up to 50%! Send for FREE MAIL ORDER CATALOG today. Deliveries are prompt, workmanship and materia guaranteed. uaranteed. And when in Portland visit The Leatherworks. 2908 SE BELMONT, DEPT. F, PORTLAND, OR 97214 (503) 233-0082 HOURS 11 TO 6 TUE. - SAT. VISA / MC / TELECHECK

NO MATTER WHAT SIZE YOU ARE NOW … YOU WILL GAIN UP TO 4 INCHES, NOT IN 6 WEEKS … BUT WITHIN 48 HOURS…AND IT'S GUARANTEEDI

That's right! If you are 6 inches when erect we guarantee to make your penis up to 4 inches longer also thicker and limmer. You no longer need pills, drugs or weights. The TENSOR is the simple, natural way to prostheticall sively by mail.

The regular price is $19.95 Only $695 Special Customized Heavy Duty Model only $9.95

Mail to: HOLMES & ASSOC. Dept. 6578 P.O. Box 64748, Los Angeles, CA 90064

the bay, RICHARD OF S.F. (415)821-3457. Male Models & Companions for a night on the town or an evening at home, 21 to 35 Years of Age, Dinner—Dancing—Theatre/ Sightseing—Tour Guides/ Birthday Presents/ Nude Photography/ Fa Market Street San Francisco, CA 94102.

HUNKY NORWEAGEN

Strong massage. In or out. Call 415-552-8164. For color photo send $2.00 and your address to Bill Lunde, 246 Missoui St., S.F., Ca. 94107.

MODELS SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA

Drummer is looking for leather / uni- form men willing to model. (415) 864- 3456

YOUR ADS GET RESULTS!

MODELS FLORIDA

ESCORT / MODEL Bodybuilder. 813-823-5629. Jerry.

MODELS NEW YORK

MODELS

Drummer is looking for leather / uni- form men willing to model. (415) 864- 3456

IN SEARCH OF OLDER MEN? LOOK RIGHT HERE!

MODELS TEXAS

READY TO WEAR My dog collar? Strip, kneel and call Laird Ty. (713) 869-2298. Will interview young passive models.

MAIL ORDER

MAIL ORDER NOTICE The California law now reads that anyone conducting a mail order business, or offering items for sale through the mail and using a post office box or mail drop service, must reveal in all advertising the address at which the business is being conducted. To advertisers , this address must be included in all ad copy., To readers, the address that appears at the end of a mail order ad (in parentheses) is the address required by state law. Most firms will still prefer that correspondence be sent to the lifeth box number. to the listed box number.

ENEMA EQUIPMENT

Fun, Funky Enema Equipment for practical cleanliness, pleasure or disci- pline. Other Ass-oriented toys also. Catalog $2. Art Hamilton, 315 West 4th Street, New York, NY 10014.

HOT S&M AUDIO TAPES By Drummer's Frank O'Rourke. Contact: Hatfield House, Box 14128, San Francisco, CA 94114

THE NATIONAL MARCH ON WASHINGTON A high-quality Ip documentary of the historic March on Washington for Gay Rights, including speeches, conversa- tions, and rallys. A moving tapestry of sounds and emotions. Limited availability. $9 (includes postage / handling) from: Studstore, 960 Folsom, San Francisco, CA 94107.

MANIFEST BACK ISSUES

While they last: April 1982 and May 1982 issues are available for $2 each (First Class add $1) from: The Stud- store, 960 Folsom, San Francisco, CA 94107.

EROTIC PORTFOLIO

The original Joe Johnson unbound portfolios of erotic male nudes. Eight oversized lithos ready for framing. Original price: $45. Few remaining for

No Time Limit

AII Major Credit Cards Accepted

Toll Free! 1-800-841-9820 Outside Calif. 1-800-227-9596

24 HRS.

7 DAYS

Finally

MISTER BENSON BY JOHN PRESTON

795

"A blockbuster of an S&M love story for the 1980s. Too hot to ever be made into a motion picture." That's hot DRUMMER described John Preston's already legendary novel of a young man finding himself in the world of sadomasochism when the magazine serialized this novel in 1980-81. Now, after two years, the entire story, revised and with a suprise epilogue. The first popular S&M novel to achieve cult status before publication, and the novel destined to set the ground rules for S&M relationships for decades to come. If you haven't met Mr. Benson, you've never experienced the painful beauty of real domination and submission. Without a doubt, the book to read.

John Preston ALTERNATE PUBLISHING 964 Folsom St., San Francisco, CA 94107 YES! Send me ____ copies of Mr. Benson @ $7.95 each.

NAME _ ADDRESS _ CITY, STATE, ZIP_ ☐ Charge it to my ☐ VISA ☐ MASTERCARD

No. __Expires__

California Residents Add 61 / 2% Sales Tax.

DRUMMER 66

(212) 807:1413

Phone authentic men. All types of muscle. Stretched out, pumped up, sweating and ready to fulfill any fantasy -anytime! (212) 807-1413

New York's Only Gay Owned & Operated Service

Open 24 Hours MasterCard & Visa

$25 postpaid from: The Studstore, 960 Folsom, San Francisco, CA 94107

PHYSIQUE PHOTOGRAPHY Bodybuilders - Athletes. (212) 847-0763. Queens, New York City.

HOT SEX MUSIC

Complete original music from Al Parker's hot film "Turned On". Sixty minute Dolby cassette. $10 P.P. from Stallion Sound Prod., Box 436, N.Y., NY 10013. brochure Available.

STALLION RAM DECK Uncensored deck of 52 all-different playing cards. Send $10.95 to: DECK, 147 West 42nd Street, Suite 603-M, NY, NY 10036. State age.

DRAWINGS BY REX

Hot, horny, unrelenting front-line stud action captured in explosive drawings action captured in explosive drawings by one of the top eroic artists of our time. Send $5.00 for ten 8½ X 11* black and white samples plus full information on how to receive more. Send check or money order made payable to wish to receive this material.

BUY & SELL NEW & USED

LEATHER GEAR All kinds; Larsen Leathers, B Riner VA 24149; 1-703-382-4668. Box 33,

$3 GETS CATALOG OF UNBELIEVABLE

Photos and cassette tapes of the most unusual, bizzarre S / M, B / D, spanking, humiliation, fisting, shaving, whipping, betting, prison rapes, gang bangs, J D, and more. East Coast Tape, Box 3372, Prov., R.I. 02909. (9 Bright

ENEMA , DILDOE , LEATHER Toys from Jason Bleu's J.B. Supply! Catalog $3. State Age. Send to: Jason Bleu, P.O. Box 85667, Los Angeles, Cali- fornia 90072 (1069% El Centro).

S&M, B&D, W / S, FETISHES

Find one who shares your interests. Read SMADS. Send $2.50 for sample copy. State over 21. Box 66973, suite 1112, Houston TX 77006. (2322 Richton, #18, 77098)

JOCKSTRAP THE WAY YOU WANT Top exclusive model will fullfill your request— Mail your desire and $20—M.O. ONLY Box 9116—537 Jones St. San Francisco—CA—94102

FREE REVEALING PICTURE

Of my nine inches uncut thick muscle with used or abused brief or jockstrap $20 M.O. ONLY— 495 Ellis St. Box 1055 San Francisco— 94102

BELT BUCKLES

For the true collector of belt buckles. Send $2.00 for our catalog of commemorative limited edition buckles. Refun-dable on first order. Gledhill Enterprises, 2112 Lyric Ave., Los Enterprises, 2112 Angeles, CA 90027 Lyric Ave., Los

PISS STAINED, CUM ENCRUSTED SWEAT SATURATED JOCK WITH PIC OF HOT WEARER $6. SIR. 257 LAGUNA, S.F., CA. 94102

EXCITING PHOTO SETS

Featuring youths from many different European countries, with emphasis on virility and beauty! For NEW Catalogs and sample, send $2. BRANDENBURG STUDIO, Dept-MC, 82 Wall Street, NY, NY 10005.

FREE SEX TOYS!

Market research needs open minded people to rate sex aids. (Tapes, photos, latex items, inflatables, etc.) You keep free & return "Product Profile". You pay only ship +hdl. 12 shpmts. Send check or M.O. for $14.23 Intl. Prod. Resch. & Develop., 545 Haight Ste. 229 S.F., CA 94117, 1st 2000 only. Others returned. Must be 21 yrs

USED RUBBERS

And raunchy jocks. Actually used by horse-hung studs. Rubbers $5. Jocks $12, Add $1.00 for postage. Check or M.O. to: BERNARD, Box 444, 444 Hudson St., NYC 10014. State 21+

RUBBER BONDAGE

Inflatable helmet with inflatable gag shown page 12 Drummer 64, $90 sent airmail. Latex lined laced leather penis muff-lined inside with 140 spikes. $35 airmail. Now 172 unusual, high quality bondage items in leather-latex. Largest stock in Europe. Prices lower than U.S. Lists sent airmail $3 bills. Remawear, Sherwood House, Burnley Road, Tod- morden, Lancashire 0L14 7ET England.

ORGANIZATIONS

1,000 MEN (415) 626-1100 anytime

LIKE TO FUCK?

American— Greek Alliances: The club which gets Greek Actives into Greek Passives! Name, age, stamp To: P.O.

Box 623-AGD, NYC, NY 10013.

GAYS AND YOUNG PRISONERS

Threatened with sexual exploitation, in institutions everywhere, benefit from the work of The Prometheus Foundation , which also protects gays in society from rip-offs by unscrupulous inmates. For information on the Pen Pal Group and other vital programs, and a copy of FIRE!, the Foundation's new-sletter, send SASE to: Prometheus, P.O. BOX 12954, Pittsburgh, PA 15241.

MILITARY TRAINING

3 Military Drill instructors will administer discipline, physical training, cell confinement, & prolonged immobile restraint in a realistic military atmosphere for weekend or week long ses- sions. Safe, sane, discreet and monitored confinement for Boot Camp, Stockade, or POW training. Mummifi- cation, sensory deprivation, controlled breathing situations also available. Individual or buddy system entry. No FF, Scat, Drugs. Fee required, References available. Address Serious Inquiries to: Training Center Information, P.O. Box 672, Bridgeton, MC 63044, All replies answered. (314)867-7233.

PHALLIC WORSHIP

Saint Priapus Church, 583 Grove, SF 94102 415-431-2188 Services combine sex & religion, Newsletter, Christian eroticism, phallic art, poetry, send $1 for sample, NYC, LA parishes, Most active Gay church in U.S. Sex can destroy evil.

CS— FOR MEN WHO SMOKE And turn on to cigars. For more infor- mation write: POB 15344, San Antonio,

SARGE/ ROOKE. MASTER/ SLAVE. DAD/ SON. BLACK/ WHITE: TRAINER/ TRAINEE. ON THE HUNT FOR OPPO- SITES? ENBOLL NOW IN CHIRON. NATIONWIDE. SEND S3. FOR INFO- PACK TO CHIRON. BOX 4160. VILL STA. NY. NY. 1014. 3250 BL IVED.

THE NATION'S FIRST S / M HOTLINE. (415)346-8747

BLACK TIMBER BLACK MEN OVER 6 FEET TALL, JOIN EXCLUSIVE CLUB OF HOT, HUNG, BLACK, TALL MEN WHO PREFER THEIR OWN SIZE, FOR DETAILS SEND S.A.S.E. WITH PHOTO/ OR DESCRIPTION TO MR. SC P.O. BOX 1925 PACOIMA, CALIFOR-NIA 91331

PHONE SEX

S&M PHONE SEX! (714) 494-4871 VISA/ MC/ AE

DADDY'S PRIVATE LINE Daddy wants to J / O with you boy! So call Ray at his private Telco Fantasy Line: (213) 664 4088. All calls $25.00, Credit Cards, Money Orders, O.K.

THE NATION'S FIRST S / M HOTLINE (415)346-8747.

RESORTS

RUSSIAN RIVER GUEST HOUSE

Luxurious private rooms, enclosed sundeck and yard, beautiful garden setting. Close to everything. Easy to find. Friendly service. Playrooms available . Meals by arrangement. Santa Rosa pickup service. Save money AT THE RIVER and have more fun!

AT THE RIVER Frank & Erick (707) 887-9130

SERVICES

SHANTI PROJECT

Volunteer counseling service for individuals and their loved ones facing life- threatening illness and grief. Call threatening 415-558-9644

COUNSELING MID-COUNTIES HELP CENTER (213) 863-5817.

FRIENDS OF THE CENTER Signal Your Commitment to the future growth of the Los Angeles Gay & Lesbian Community Services Center by becoming a member of 'FRIENDS OF THE CENTER.' For Membership information call (23) 464-7400 Ext. 251, or Write: Frie Hollywood, CA 90038. Do it today, It's

ST PRIAPUS GAY RESCUE MISSION

Emergency shelter, food, counselling. Free to poor, others $4 per day. No sex or religion required. Subsidized by Lib- erty Baths, Sutro Baths, Cauldron, Cir- cle J, church poor box. Food, $$$, volunteers, jobs needed. 415-431-2188.

WE CONNECT MEN TOGETHER MAN—TO—MAN WE EMPLOY NO PROFFESSION-ALS WHO READ FROM SCRIPTS HE'S GETTING OFF ON YOU WHILE YOU'RE TURNING ON TO HIM. THE CONNECTOR (415)346- 8747

Jim Wigler Photography

(415) 673-1284

Leather Illustration DV DIRK DYKSTRA of Lazy Leo Studios®

(415) 431-6282

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southwest of Denver and two miles high. The day was spent setting up tents ("Jee-zus , this thing's more complicated than all those toys around your bed!"), greeting old friends, and making new ones. That night the Rockymountaineers hosted the first of the many, many parties in store for us.

Afterwards came the impressive opening ceremonies. At precisely 10 p.m. gleaming motorcycles rumbled into the campfire area before the stage with American, Canadian, and Colorado flags. Then the national anthems of the two countries rang out into the starry mountain night, their stirring refrains delivered by 150 gay voices, a little weak on "Oh, Canada" but lots of heart.

The GFR Chairman, Chuck M., introduced all the Rockymountaineers, announced the bike, leather, and social clubs in attendance this year, and metaphorically cut the ribbon officially opening the 1983 Golden Fleece Run. After that, the people who weren't ready to take to sleeping bags (theirs or others') gathered about the campfire, which held the cool night air at bay. As number 35 and I retired to our camper, we could see that campfire get-togethers have come a long way from our church camp and Boy Scout days. No more singsong shit, although wienies still got roasted.

Saturday began a little slowly as those of us who, God knows why, were already up at 7 a.m., muttered around in our greasy wrappers, clutching 'eye opener' cocktails or coffee. Some, like me, clutched one of each. By the time the rider / navigator teams left on the Enduro Run at 9 am, the whole camp was up and about. At 10 o'clock the infamous scavenger hunt began. Individuals and teams scoured the area for douche bags, latex gloves, hairiest asses, shaved crotches, used rubbers, hardest cocks, longest cocks, heaviest dildoes , and fifteen other objets d'art on the official list. At 11:30 the plunderers presented whatever they'd been able to scrounge for the judges' close (except for the used rubbers and one dildo) consideration . The scavenger hunt was a very popular event as the 'hardest' cock (60 seconds to get it up), 'longest' cock (60 seconds to get it out), and a variety of hairy asses and shaved crotches were displayed on top of the judges' table. While I admired one hairy ass in particular, I was positively intrigued by the heaviest dildo in the bunch. As I remarked to a guy next to me, "A truly remarkable asshole is attending this run."

Saturday afternoon saw the running of the bike events and the people events. While people entrants were losing their marbles and getting into strange bags, hardcore bikers were engaged in more manly contests, trying to ride over a teeter-totter and snatch tennis balls from pylons to toss into peck baskets. Buddy riders found themselves out for a 'night on the town,' racing the clock to put on a

tacky evening gown, wig and hat, fill a giant champagne goblet and trundle back to the finish line, where the liquid was measured. I think the winner rode sidesaddle . And I didn't get to photograph this event, because I had to participate in it ("Why me, Lord?"), and I'm glad there are no pictures!

The 4:30 party hosted that afternoon by The Toolbox of Denver contained two special treats: Mr. Leather Colorado '83 tending bar in the same body and leather which won him the title, and a Master/ slave auction. All one needed for the latter was a fistful of 'fuck bucks,' which one acquired whenever going through the chow line or getting a drink in a cocktail party. They could also be purchased outright at a dollar for two thousand (the proceeds going towards the RMMC's land fund to purchase their own site), but as the entry form stated, "…raising money is not really a goal of this auction, having fantasies is." And believe me, there were fantasy trips galore.

One by one, a six-foot-five leather Master brought the slaves forward for the bidders' inspection, bending them over, spreading their cheeks, peeling them down to the bare facts. There were even a few matched sets, Master / slave and slave / slave. A purchaser got the use of his property for three hours (at least) beginning right after the auction, which certainly livened up dinnertime as one slave ended up across his Master's table as dessert . The sling located up the hill got a lot

Sunday saw the completion of all the bike and people events. This last evening of GFR-XII was reserved for the grand finale events: a cocktail party, dinner, show, and awards ceremony. At 5 o'clock, the Motorcyclemen of New Mexico hosted their Second Anniversary party, complete with banners, balloons, maria-chi music, and a pinata sort of shaped like a giant M&M candy. This lively fiesta got everybody into a real good mood for the steak dinner which followed immediately , and that in turn primed us for the show put on by the Rockymountaineers. Sunday evening is traditionally 'full dress,' by the way, and everyone wears leather, uniforms, or whatever suits the fancy. The Rockymountaineers were positively resplendent in their full black leather club uniform.

The awards ceremony revealed the winners of all the bike and people contests , which had entertained us for two days. First place winners received engraved gold pins, and second and third place winners were presented with framed certificates. At the end everyone stood and joined hands for something which is rapidly becoming a tradition among motorcycle clubs, the singing of "The Way Old Friends Do" at the close of the run. It was a powerfully emotional moment, a beautiful end to Golden Fleece Run XII.

HALSTED UNDESIGNED

Once upon a time Fred Halsted was the avant garde darling of the Los Angeles porn set, an innovator who-with films like Sex Garage and Sextool—threatened to break down every stereotypical barrier between porn and art and eroticism. His daring was unparalleled at a time when only Wakefield Poole's Boys in the Sand was being taken seriously. L.A. Plays Itself, Halsted's first feature film, was good enough to go into the MOMA collection of contemporary films. His second theatrical feature, Sextool, became a primer for the next generation of gayporn film-makers . Films like Truck It! and Eroticus (In the latter Halsted is the narrator through a history of gay porn films), while inferior, were nonetheless worthwhile, exciting, enviable projects.

Then something happened. A planned film, Hughie, was scrapped. What was art became business. Halsted turned to grinding out mindless, ill-considered projects instead of forging ahead with his brave new porn.

Usually when that happens (and it usually happens in reverse; years of grind-house work leading to one or two masterpieces) it's because either the artist burned out or the art did not sell. Who knows which, if actually either, is the truth in Halsted's case; what matters most is the fait accompli, in Halsted's recent films all the magic is gone.

For a while, Fred Halsted opened a private club in Los Angeles—or at least bore his name: Halsted's. It is the setting of A Night at Halsted's (1982). In it, the film-maker plays a member of the club who comes in one afternoon to check the action. He is met at the door by the attendant (Joey Yale), who give a 50s impersonation of a contemporary punk rocker. Once inside, Halsted the character narrates the action around him. At the end he finds a trick for himself. Then he leaves. Fini.

A Night at Halsted's; Cosco Studios; 1982; 75 minutes; VCA, 2051 Pontius Ave., Los Angeles, CA 90025; $69.00; VHS / Beta; $4.00 postage/ handling; catalog $3.00; Signed statement required.

Pieces of Eight; Cosco Studios; 1980; 70 minutes ; VCA (see above); $69.00; $4.00 postage/ handling; signed statement required.

If the purpose of gay porn (or any porn) is to excite the viewer to the point of erection, then A Night at Halsted's attempts (sucess depends on the connection the visual images make with the individual viewer) to stay within that closed definition. Nothing near what he attempted much earlier in his career with his first handful of films.

But even given the severe limitations of this definition, A Night at Halsted's comes off as not thought out and badly executed . In an attempt to instill a sense of atmosphere, the action takes place under the worst possible lighting conditions, from awkward camera angles, giving off a sense of claustrophobia more than immediacy or voyeurism.

Even the sterling and popular J.W. King can not rise above the mediocrity of the situation in which he is used (with a partner so unhealthy looking—in this day and age—as to arouse fear more than passion).

Pieces of Eight, while better filmed, is no better conceived or realized. Here a single character, played by Dan Pace, is expected to carry the viewer's interest through what is, in actuality, an anthology of set pieces. Pace plays a stripper about to debut at a Los Angeles adult theatre. We journey with him from the beginning of a single day to its conclusion with his on-stage masturbation performance. Along the way he fantasizes and recalls men and sex that have excited him-all in preparation for his performance. A scene with Johnny Harden (who recently died in a car accident in real life) is the only interesting one of the various couplings and postures. The feature ends with a voice-over conversation between Hals-ted and someone (possibly Joey Yale) discussing what to call the film. Halsted coins the title. If the sex isn't very thrilling, the story all but non-existent, then what's the point?

The point is this: You can live off your reputation in gay porn, provided you had a good one to start with, for a very long time before the public calls your bluff. A perfect example is Peter Berlin: two films nearly ten years ago and nothing since-yet both films, on video tape, enjoy constant sales and have found a whole new audience in this decade. We don't know if Peter Berlin's work would have fallen into a similar morass had he continued to grind out feature after feature-but, sadly, that's what happened to Halsted.

ON GOLDEN RODS

David Carter single-handedly built an empire, but not based on his acting or filmmaking abilities. Three Summer Afternoons, a theatrical film-to-video transfer with dubbed vocal track, is hardly more than three individual loops strung together with the thin thread of representing three adventures of the infamous Southern California bodybuilder.

Each segment is roughly a half-hour, with some intercutting of orgasms and flashbacks to fill in the transition from A to B to C. How well you like this film depends entirely how visually stimulating you find the participants; the sex is run-of -the-mill.

In the first segment, David and a buddy are comparing workout routines and the effects of pumping iron on various parts of their bodies; sort of show and tell. With such good buddies, showing off eventually gets down to bare-assed and erect. Standard sucking and fucking is augmented by the perspective of being performed by 'bodybuilders.'

Three Summer Afternoons; 1983; David Carter , Box 972, Venice, CA 90291; VHS / Beta, $69.95 plus $2 postage / handling; signed statement required.

This film was made in what looks to be the mid-70s, and its sex appeal follows suit: getting it up and getting it on were the most important factors.

To paraphrase Gertrude Stein, a bodybuilder is a bodybuilder is a bodybuilder; you either think these guys are competition stuff or you don't. There's a lot of talk about "great cuts" (the high-relief of well-worked and tight muscles for all you non-competition fans) but not many great cuts on the bodies on the screen. David Carter is the biggest of the bodybuilders in this video, but biggest by bulk. More interesting is how completely sexually versatile he is, and how often he achieves orgasm (about twice an episode, three times in one segment).

The middle piece holds the one treat, a handsome, dark, muscular-really-costar with twelve uncut inches. David savs that his buddy has twelve inches, and it's easy to believe. After some inane conversation about the lunch they are about to eat, the fucking and sucking begin. Here we meet someone every bit as sexually versatile as David Carter himself. And, fortunately for the viewer, the middle segment is the longest of the three.

In the final tale, David is a land surveyor who meets and seduces a woodsman (How do you Know? Simple, he has an axe!). This part seems the longest, however , since the woodsman has a hard time getting it up and the camera records every endless moment of his tumescence.

David Carter's voice sounds so similar to Kate Hepburn that this video could have been called On Golden Rods, except that wouldn't have been exactly true-only one goldenrod amid the rushes.

DRUMMER 86

THE RETURN OF DICK FISK

The porn coup of the last five years (since he was last seen in action on the theatre / video screen) is the release of Falcon's Spokes, a mini-epic video cassette starring none other than Dick Fisk; five years older and five years hotter than before. A strict lifestyle that included non-stop bodybuilding has turned one of the most popular young porn stars into what will obviously be the most popular man in the business. If you liked him five years ago, you're going to fall all over yourself when you see him in Spokes!

The story: A bike club in Southern Cal-fornia initiates a new member. The rest of the cast: Lee Ryder, Leo Ford, and three new Falcon discoveries. Release is scheduled for September. Expect to see a lot of publicity generated by this one; it's not every day a porn legend makes such an auspicious return. - John W. Rowberry

AL PARKER AS THE REPAIRMAN

The legendary Al Parker in his first Hot Talk Tape. It's all here: the crotch-hardening hot sex that has made Al the biggest star in his field. This extra special forty minute tape puts Althrough his paces as the air conditioner repairman who drops by one scorching afternoon . You'll hear everything Al is famous for, told in his own words plus those of his lucky victim. Lets you get closer to Al Parker than you've ever fantasized you could.

MASTER MARIO AS THE COP

Master Mario, porn star, slave driver, the ultimate top man, as the toughest cop you've everfan-tasized about. He puts a suspect through a domination trip that leaves nothing to the imagination . Q95

AL PARKER'S TURNED ON

The original soundtrack, "Forbidden Overture," from Al Parker's hottest film, Turned On, available for the first time ever, in Dolby Stereo. Q95

MARINES OVERHEARD

Two hot and horny young marines meet in the barracks latrine. Richie has to take a piss, and Mike takes it from there. If you like your action raunchy while a hot marine squats on your face, then you'll get wet overhearing these marines. 895

MUSCLE BUILDER ORGY

Five hot bodybuilders after a sweaty workout, stripping down to sweat-drenched jock straps, eyeing each other, their hands reaching out to feel each other's biceps, pushing hard muscle against hard muscle. If you get turned on by pumped muscles, this tape's for you! 895

HOT HUNG TRUCKER

Teamster Bob picks up a hitchhiker at a truckstop in the California desert. Bob has a kink in his neck and the hitchhiker suggests a massage. Bob's leather jacket is the first thing to come off, then his dirty, greasy jeans. When the jeans hit the floor of the truck cab, you'll find out why this tape is called "Hot Hung Trucker!"

MASTER MARIO AS THE D.I.

Military discipline at its most severe as Master Mario shows a couple of marine recruits who's boss! Loaded with strong verbal abuse and body worship.

MASTER MARIO IN GREASE MONKEYS

Master Mario and his buddy Steve apprehend a voyeur in the men's room of their body shop. They get out the axle grease for a gang bang you won't soon forget!

Q95

THE COMMANDER SPEAKS

"I am your big brother, your daddy, your commanding officer. I am every big man you ever saw in your whole fuckin' life and beat off over. Your tongue is going to be my shower. Your mouth is going to be my toilet. Smell what a man is like between his leas." That's just the start of the verbal abuse and humiliation the Commander is going to heap on you!

895

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DRUMMER 87

DRUMMER'S HOT SPOTS

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FORESKIN UPDATE

Dear Bud,

I am 27 with a big hunk of unclipped meat which is blind and I mean blind! The opening is only the size of a pencil. Get my rocks off in the shower where people stare at it, and really turn on when a clipped dude goes down on it. They dig that shrouded pole! To keep it clean I use Q Tips with baby oil. If a guy wants head cheese, I won't clean it for three days and then feed him on the fourth. If it stays in there more than four days, the cheese builds up too high and hurts. You should see the greedy bastards lust for the stuff. How about some pictures of blind meat in Drummer? I'll send you some of mine if you won't show my face.

Dear Bud,

After reading your article in Drummer I just had to write to you. My lover and I are both uncut, but several years ago successfully trained our skins to stay pulled back. Our skins had never been too tight to begin with, and our frenula had been cut at birth. Never gave much thought to foreskin one way or the other until we read your material. After reading it I turned on to stretching my lover's skin and used several of the techniques I'd read. When I started, I was able to get two fingers in there and, believe me, I ain't got small fingers. My goal is to get all eight fingers in there which won't be long now. This has been a turn-on for both of us, has caused me no pain at all and a tolerable amount to my lover. Thought you and your readers would like to know that stretching works!

Dear Fingers,

Hey, friend, thanks for the letter. Wow! Two foreskins in the same household? I am glad to have helped you two fellows rediscover your skins. Now that you seem to have learned lesson one (stretching), I'll give you lesson number two (foreskin togetherness). Take both uncut dicks, roll the skin back off the head of one dick and then pull the skin of the other dick over the exposed cockhead. Now, gradually work the shoved-back skin forward, rolling over the other foreskin until both cockheads are side-by-side snuggly together in all that wad of mutual foreskin . Next, get a long strip of Dermicel surgical tape and run it up the shaft of one dick (avoiding hairs, if possible) and down the shaft of the other dick, making sure that the tape is sticking fast to all sixteen or so inches of man-meat. Then, secure more strips along the same route until both cocks are completely trapped; now you two guys are really together! Now, one of you start pumping one of the cocks and you will simultaneously pump both of them. The sensation of your skin being pumped without a hand on it is incredible ! Chances are you will come together inside all that skin.

While you guys are pumping I want to remark about your statement, "…our frenula were cut at birth." That is amazing ! It might account for your very loose foreskins and for your ability to keep them pulled back. I received a letter from a reader who claims the headmaster at his New England boys' school routinely had all his uncircumcised cadets 'streamlined .' Unlike at most military schools, etc., of that era, this headmaster didn't demand that all the little penises in school be circumcised. Instead, 'streamlined' at this school meant having the frenula removed. The result, according to my writer , was that he ended up with an exceptionally loose foreskin which could be retracted back to his balls without causing the shaft to bend and was, in his opinion, much more flexible. Removing the frenulum is a very easy procedure which is performed by a urologist; it is called a frenoplasty. It is often recommended for men who have short frenula or frenula which chronically split and bleed. To have such an operation merely to get a looser foreskin will probably work, but for you guys who have super-sensitive frenula (a lot of men claim that is their most erotic area…under the head), I'd say keep that little strip of skin. Also, for those of us into 'natural' cocks, a frenulum can be quite beautiful and fun to tease (and they certainly add to the interest when they are found on a circumcised peter). However, if it is the longest, floppiest, most stretched out sex-skin in town you want to see your local urologist and go for it!

Dear Bud.

I was intrigued by your comment that the East German police circumcise all their cadets. Do you think it is for espionage reasons? Or is it a matter of being able to identify themselves since they live in a part of the world where circumcision is rare? Do you think circumcision plays a part in the masquerade of spies? What about the Russians?

Dear Intrigued.

The East German Police got its dicks skinned because its chief medical officer had the hots to circumcise them…at least at first. That was in the 60's. If they are still shedding those German rolls, I suppose it is a matter of camaraderie in the Force. And, yes, if espionage is part of their work, the style of their penises is very important. Yes, those Russian James

Bond-types who are trained for spy work in the USA and Canada get their dicks 'Americanized'…at least after the following incident: in 1961 a Russian spy named Gordon Lonsdale was caught in Canada because of his foreskin. He had been born in Canada in 1924, but taken to live in Finland in 1932. He returned to Canada in the early 50's and soon his activities became suspect. Quoting the book Forty Years of Spying by Ronald Seth, "A somewhat bizarre circumstance told the authorities that their prisoner Lonsdale was not the real Lonsdale. During their investigation the Royal Canadian Mounted Police traced the doctor who delivered Mrs. Lonsdale's son. This doctor remembered well the delivery and turned up old records that showed within a few days of the baby's birth it had been necessary to circumcise him. The Lons-dale in prison was not circumcised." Got-cha ! I am sure the Russian KGB will not make that mistake again!

Dear Bud.

I have enjoyed circumcision fantasies all my life. They started when I was a little kid at school, and a boy I idolized pulled out his penis at the urinal next to mine. It was the strangest looking one I had ever seen, but being his penis I thought it was beautiful. He saw me staring at it and said, "I've been to the doctor." For years I put myself to sleep fantasizing about 'going to the doctor,' but I usually fell asleep before I got there. Later, when I found out what happened at the doctor's, I circumcised myself to sleep every night. Then, five years ago I was getting a physical at my job when the company doctor said, "We don't see many foreskins around these days. Why don't you come to my office on Friday night and I'll cut it off for you. You'll be ready to go back to work on Monday." Wow! My uncircumcised peter shot right up to my belly button …so I showed up on Friday night. I was 31 at the time and I watched my manhood being restyled as the doctor slowly skinned my dick, an experience of a lifetime , believe me! Everything since then has been an improvement from appearance to sexual. And, I still have my circumcision fantasies to enjoy! However, recently the fantasies are more about other men getting circumcised. I would love to watch a man getting his manhood restyled like I experienced. From your writing I surmise you receive letters from other men like me, men who want to get cut or got cut as adults. I'll bet you've heard from more than one guy who wants to get circumcised in front of an audience. That is one of my fantasies. Isn't

there some way all these guys could get together and discuss circumcision and possibly enjoy watching one? My only regret is that I had but one foreskin to give to my fantasies.

Dear Fantasy,

Yes, I do receive letters from men who are into circumcision fantasies. As I have written previously, most uncut Americans have experienced such fantasies and have considered circumcision at times in their lives. Such fantasies are probably the result of guilt feelings about 'dirty cocks,' etc., or like you, having a childhood idol who had a circumcised peter. But so what? If these fantasies are enjoyable to you and are as much a part of your sexuality as yours seem to be, I'd say go for it! And, if these fantasies lead you to the circumcision bench and you are sure that is what you want for your dick … go for it! Foreskin lovers can't bear the thought of a single foreskin being taken out of circulation …but we can't be greedy! Many writers who claim to be avidly anti-circumcision admit to a love-hate fascination and a desire to watch an adult circumcision. It is part of our natural SM instincts. And, yes, I have had a few letters from uncircumcised men who are waiting for the right scene; an audience of erect circumcised cocks and a handsome topman circumciser. Well, besides the USA

(which is a correspondence club for men into all sides of the foreskin / circumcision story) there is a clandestine Foreskins Anonymous club which meets to discuss circumcision fantasies and experiences and to watch circumcisions. You belong to them! I'll give them your name. Since your manhood was recently 'restyled,' they will accept you; but the uncuts they invite must prove that they are ready to be circumcised…and want it bad! My other readers won't be mad at me for giving that club your name since your foreskin went out of circulation five years ago.

Dear Bud,

I have been reading with the continued controversy regarding circumcision. I agree with your position against infant circumcision. I also agree that any male who is upset about having been cut should consider a foreskin reconstruction . However, I must disagree with your apparent emphasis on surgical reconstruction (as opposed to non-surgical restoration , penile skin stretching). I feel that this is wrong for several reasons: (A) in any question of surgery, where there is a non-surgical alternative, it is advisable to look first towards the non-surgical method, due to the risk factor in surgery; (B) surgery is extremely expensive; (C) the time factor; non-surgical stretching will take anywhere from six months to a year while surgery is close to a year; (D) the end result of surgery may not be satisfactory . In my opinion and experience, non-surgical restoration should always be encouraged as first choice. And if that does not work, then there is the alternative…surgery.

Dear Controversy,

Thanks for your observation. I assume you are successfully stretching out a new foreskin for yourself. That's great! I was really not aware that I was emphasizing surgical reconstruction over stretching. At least half the letters I receive from Drummer readers are enquiring about doctors who are experienced at foreskin restoration. I know who some of these doctors are, so I tell my readers how to contact them. I also give them the names of several men who have had such surgery. And I give them the name of the group which is promoting the nonsurgical method of which you speak. I think these men should be aware of all possible alternatives. I have personally inspected ten penises which have new foreskins through surgery and at least six of them look as if they had never been circumcised. I have had some great reports about your non-surgical method but, as of this writing, I have yet to personally inspect any results. Want to show me?

Dear Bud.

Read your article in "Foreskin Update". Several years ago I read where some sadists got hold of this young Navy fellow and tied him down spread-eagle and naked. Then this far-out doctor took the sailor's uncircumcised penis and shot liquid silicone into it. Then they just stood there watching the prick grow huge and seeing how wide the skin would stretch. Then I read where they were doing it to women's tits. Then I met this dude at an orgy whose uncircumcised dick was so fuckin' huge, it was the center of attention . He said he had it pumped with silicone . Ever since seeing his I have wanted my uncut cock pumped with it too. Do you know a doctor in the area who's into doing it to cocks? Do you know any Drummer readers who've had it done? I'd dig hearing from them through you if you don't mind.

Dear Huge,

I appreciate your question, but the answer is not quite in my line of research. I don't know a doctor who's into pumping silicone into cocks; but if any reader knows of one, I'm sure he'll write. I have heard some negative things about silicone use…but the thought of a penis being "so fuckin' huge" is intriguing. The only problem might be that it gets so huge no one can take it … anyplace. It would certainly be nice to see, though. So, Huge, if I find you some answers and it works on your uncut dick … let me take a look!

Dear Mr. Berkeley, Sir!

I am 39 years young, homo / masochist in prison with nine years in and one to go to SF. I have been reading about the new diseases in the past. Most of us are very healthy. I eat from ten to 15 loads of sperm a day. Can any of this hurt me?

Dear Eat,

Ten to 15 loads?! In one day!? Fifteen loads? Oh, yes, your question. Again, your question is not in my line of research. Unfortunately, at the time of this writing, I am not sure anyone has your answer. From optimistic reports such answers might be forthcoming soon and, hopefully, by the time you arrive in SF we might know how to keep you from harm. As you know, Eat, I am not a doctor. But I hate to tell you what my non-medical advice is to you for the moment…spit it out! Yes, it breaks my heart to think of 15 loads (a day?) going down the drain, but until we get some answers I think it is prudent not to swallow the protein. By the way, SF is always ready for another expert cockeater…15 loads a day? Eat, welcome home!

Dear Mr. Berkeley,

I am German and after reading your Drummer articles I must admit I never really thought about playing with my

-photo by Jim Wigler foreskin in such a way. Here in Germany for most of us it is natural to have foreskin and to take it for granted. I enjoy my trips to America because there men like my uncircumcised penis especially. Here in Germany when we spot an American soldier who looks delicious, we know what we have to deal with; a large big mushroom head with no skin on it. My experiences is that cut people have much larger cockheads than those with skin. Why?

Dear Bud.

While in the Army I was stationed at a military hospital in Honolulu. It seemed that every serviceman in Hawaii was coming in to get circumcised … especially the sailors. They roamed around the hospital with their little cans of anaesthetic spray. I kept asking why they had it done and the answers boiled down to the fact they had been told all the nourishment needed to feed that extra skin would now be used to make their cocks double or triple in size and increase the size of their cockheads. Wouldn't you want to be circumcised if that was true? I didn't believe a word of it and still have my skin to do all kinds of fun things with. Those poor stupid bastards don't know what they've missed; or maybe they do!

Dear German and Army,

While there are many myths being bounced around about circumcision, especially by medics with tiny scissors, it does seem apparent that cut cocks generally have wider cockheads, particularly around the corona. Once in a while you spot a bulbous glans on an uncut cock. very often wrapped in a rather tight foreskin . You also find plenty of cut cocks with rather narrow cockheads. Of course, we are speaking of these dicks in their flaccid, or even erect, states. But the next time you are beating on an uncircumcised cock, keep a close look at the glans and you will notice it flare out as wide as any glans just as the cock starts to shoot. Yes, most uncut dicks have wide glans but they don't show them off until ejaculation occurs. After that, as the foreskin begins to roll forward, the glans calms down to fit neatly into the skin-pouch. Thus it seems without that roll of skin (on circumcised cocks) the glans is inclined to remain permanently flared to various degrees. Many men who were circumcised as adults report that their glans got wider, or fatter, after their circumcision. It is a phenomenon most of us can't deny…and one which has certainly helped the Army in its collecting of GI pelts.

To Whom It May Concern,

A reflection on the erotic beauty of the uncircumcised penis: the most erotically stimulating visual image is that of the moment when the glans is just at the point of projecting from its sheath, stretching against its confinement, about to emerge in the display of potency and power. Seldom do photographers capture that supremely exciting moment of the imminent emergence of the glans from the foreskin. Erotically, it is a moment of truth and wonder and delight. П

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