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DRUM MEDIA

Recently, some of the larger gay porn studios have produced a number of "leather" videos. The quotation marks indicate several things. First, that many of these videos have the word "leather" in the title. In the past few months alone, Leather Lust, Leather Leather Weekend, Temptation, and Leather Watch have all been released, and that's just to name a few. Others may not use the word "leather" in the title, but the titles they do have as well as the cover photos, promotional copy, and packing design indicate that they are leather themed. The second rea- son for the quotation marks is that these videos are often leather in name and marketing strategy only. Sure, the men in them almost always wear leather jackets, but who doesn't these days? Leather jackets are worn not only by vanilla fags, but also by straight folks who have nothing to do

Current fashion trends have also biker made boots universal If footwear. is someone wearing kickass boots, you cannot assume that they want you to lick them. Often the men in these new videos wear more serious leather, such as chaps or harnesses. Still, wearing leather does not equal leather sex. One must use the leather to cross over into the riskier area of leather sex.

The vast majority of these videos give us nothing but vanilla sex. To be fair and honest, many of them are, in fact, good vanilla sex videos. As good as they may be, however, they are still practicing deceptive advertising. If the word "leather" is splashed across a video box that features men in full gear, the video inside should deliver some raunchy leather sex. The leather should be smelled and licked. Boots should be worshipped. Harnesses should be yanked. The leather should not be left in a heap on the floor while to boys suck and fuck each other.

If they're not going to deliver hard-core leather sex, why are these studios marketing their videos this way? Are they trying to pull the old "bait and switch" Drummer guys? Probably not. These videos are neither made or marketed for men into heavy leather, B&D and SM. Instead, they are meant to appeal to vanilla fags. Many gay men are intrigued by leather, but do no want to see intensely raunch images. These videos offer them the opportunity to feel a little naught while remaining completely safe They can get to be dirty for ninety minutes and then play clean the res of the time.

If you're looking for videos tha include Drummer-style leather sex avoid stuff put out by the big nam studios. The smaller, undergroun and fetish producers are still makin the sleaziest stuff on the market Unfortunately, these studios are no usually carried in video stores While the tapes are available fo purchase through mail order, yo can rarely rent them as easily as th "leather" counterparts the larger stu dios put out. That means that i you're looking for real hard-cor leather porn, you're either going t have to spend much more mone than a rental fee or find the od store that carries what you wan Happy hunting!

Shave Your Booty

Brick House Entertainment. Starrin

Roger McIntyre, Billy Jade, Lucas St. James, Sean Hunter, Rick Conrad, and Randy Storm. Running time 58 minutes.

Shave Your Booty is not so much pornography as it is a "how-to" video. Not surprisingly, what we learn how to do is get hair off of asses. In six solo scenes, we see as many boys remove all the hair from their butts (and often from other places as well). Despite the title, not all of the boys shave their booties. Three use the traditional lather and razor method. One uses an electric razor. One employs a depilatory product (a.k.a. Nair). One, a combination of the electrical and chemical approaches. Who knew there were so many routes to a smooth booty?

All six boys in Shave Your Booty are very cute. Billy Jade is particularly tasty. While most of them hardly have any body hair to begin with, it is pleasant enough to watch them remove the little they do have. Seeing handsome, young guys put themselves in such a submissive and vulnerable position is, quite frankly, hot. Unfortunately, the shaving is all we get to watch.

There is no sex in this video, and other than a few half-hearted tugs, there isn't even any masturbation. The shaving could, of course, be sex-but only if someone got off on it. These boys don't. Some of them have hard-ons some of the time, but one wonders if that's caused by shaving or exhibitionism. In the end, these adorable boys and their beau- tifully shaved asses are wasted.

Night Watch II

Mustang Video. Directed by Chi Chi LaRue. Video-graphy by John Rutherford. Edited by Delta Prod- uctions. Starring Brian Maxx, Mike Nichols, Alec Danes, Casey Williams, Michael Anthony, Max Holden, Chad Connors, Jordan Young, Cory Evans, Anthony Dillen, and Bo Garret. Running time 82 minutes. To order call 1-800-227-3717.

Night Watch II makes sex clubs look like a lot more fun than they usually are. Then again, pornography is the medium that is supposed to make everything look like more fun than it is. Chi Chi LaRue has filled this fantasy sex club with gorgeous guys engaged in really hot action. All four scenes are fabulous because all the men are so enthusiastic . There's also a lot of variety and even a few surprises that make Night Watch II a real joy to watch.

In the first scene, Max Holden gives a terrific performance that culminates with coming on his own face as Alec Danes fucks him. The second scene features another wonderful bottom, Chad Connors. Connors is wickedly cute and has a very nice body. He too comes while getting fucked, and he's not even jacking himself off. The top, Michael

Anthony, is stroking Connors' dick when he shoots.

The third scene is the best in the video. It's a fourway with Mike Nichols, Casey Williams, Cory Evans, and Jordan Young. Each of the four guys is great, but Nichols and Young really shine. Nichols starts the scene alone, masturbating. He even manages to perform a little autofellatio. Young is the last to join the group, but he quickly becomes the center of attention. He's a very hungry cocksucker. He blows all three guys. Sometimes, he sucks two at once, and one point gets all three dicks in his mouth.

While there is no SM or even B&D in Night Watch II, the video captures the raw raunchiness of public sex at its best. There is also a great balance between the tops and bottoms in the video. In other videos, we often see a killer top paired with a limp partner or a powerhouse bottom stuck with a disinterested top. Here, everyone does well in his role and the matches are sensational, so whether you get off on bottoms, tops, or both, there is something in this video for you.

1 HUMMER

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Washed Out

BY DR. NORMAN GREENSTEIN, M.D.

I'm a 36 year old male in a loving relationship that occasionally involves consensual D / S (Dominance / Submissive) play in which I am given enemas. Can you advise me whether we're playing safely? In a typical session, my Master administers 2-3 quarts of body temperature water mixed with Ivory or Castile soap. They're usually given in the knee-chest position with a douche nozzle, and the fountain syringe is hung about three feet above my hips. The sessions occur no more than once a month. Thanks for your advice.

Enema is a word which means different things to different people in the leather community. For assfuck-ers and handballers, enemas may be merely a means to an end. Those into dominance-submission play may view an enema as a form of humiliation, or as part of a medical scene. Then there are those who enjoy giving or receiving the sensations an enema provides.

There is no health reason to receive an enema before fucking. The bowel is believed by many to be dirty or full of toxins, and that the body can be poisoned or sickened by failing to wash the intestines. This is not true. In a mathematical sense, our bodies are doughnuts, with the digestive tract being the hole. Food, drink, and anything else we swallow passes through the donut from one side to the other. The digestive tract, like the skin, is designed to allow our bodies to interact with the outside world. From mouth to anus, we have a complex tube designed to process anything we eat and drink in an orderly and sequential manner, extracting nutrients and water and leaving the rest behind. Specialized cells in the digestive tract secrete enzymes to help digestion; other

Some enthusiasts use buttplugs to assist in enema retention. A submissive may be required to hold the enema for a particular period of time, or to perform some brief activity while avoiding defecation.

TECH NIQUES cells belong to the immune system and protect us from any infectious agents we might happen to swallow.

The rectum is designed to have stool in it, and is elastic enough to hold quite a large volume of stool, other things, or a combination. It is possible that using an enema before fucking removes some protective materials from inside the rectum and may also these than from a bag, and it is impossible to accurately gauge the volume of water introduced. These nozzles should be used with extreme care, if at all.

The person receiving the enema should lie on his left side, in a bathtub or on a towel, with his knees bent up toward his chest. The descending colon comes down the diverticuli, and many people have them without knowing it. Cars have spare tires but our bodies don't have spare colons, so don't risk a blowout.

The enema nozzle should be inserted gently into the anus; lube on the nozzle is helpful. The fluid is allowed to enter the rectum slowly and gently, a little at a time. Communication is essential so the person administering the enema will know how fast to let the water flow. As the water enters it will distend first the rectum and then, little by little, higher and higher areas of the colon. When the colon is stretched by this increased pressure, the muscles around the outside of it respond by contracting, which can sometimes be felt as mild cramping. It is best to stop the flow temporarily until the cramping subsides.

If the pressure increases too quickly, the muscles will clamp down as hard as they can, or spasm, and this will be felt as severe pain. These spasms markedly increase the pressure inside the colon and increase the risk of a perforation. The bottom must alert the enema administrator of cramping so he will be able to slow down the flow and avoid dangerous problems.

After the entire volume of the bag has been introduced, the bottom retains it as long as possible. If his purpose has been an aesthetic pre-sex cleansing, after he evacuates the enema, he's ready for whatever comes next. Those who are doing the enema as part of a scene may wish to add some refinements after the fluid is all in. Some enthusiasts use buttplugs to assist in enema retention . A submissive may be required to hold the enema for a particular period of time, or to perform some brief activity while avoiding defecation . A sadist may administer an enema and have his bottom retain it while giving him a specified number of cane strokes. Other embellishments may suggest themselves to resourceful and creative players.

A sadist may administer an enema and have his bottom retain it while giving him a specified number of cane strokes. Other embellishments may suggest themselves to resourceful and creative players. traumatize the mucous membranes. Using enemas before fucking, especially under high pressure or large volumes, might actually increase the risk of disease transmission to the bottom . However, the colon is the part of the digestive tract least likely to have its activities disrupted by being washed, as long as this is done in moderation. Enemas should not be given more than once or twice a week, or it may eventually become impossible to shit without them.

Aesthetics is an important part of sex and is the main reason men use enemas before fucking or before cruising. The easiest way to douche the rectum is with a commercial preparation such as a Fleet's enema. A Fleet's is a small volume of water, just over half a cup, containing a mild irritant to induce the rectum and lower part of the colon to contract and expel whatever is in them. The same effect can be obtained by administering a quart or so of clean water from an enema bag. Some enema enthusiasts use douche nozzles attached directly to their shower plumbing. It is much harder to control the water pressure from left side of the abdomen to the pelvis, where it bends across the back of the pelvis to the middle, then bends downward to form the rectum. Lying on the left side allows the enema fluid to follow the natural course of the bowel with the least amount of trauma. If the enema is to be delivered from a bag, the bag should contain 1 to 1 1 / 2 quarts of lukewarm water. Water which is too hot can burn the tissue in the rectum. Cold water can cause severe painful contractions of the colon, and in excess can drop the body's core temperature and cause hypothermia.

The enema bag should be hung no more than 30" above the bottom. The higher the bag is, the more pressure the water is under when it enters the body, and the more likely to cause problems. The colon is a long elastic tube with rings of muscle around it. A colon in perfect shape can take high pressures without bursting. However, like an automobile tire, the bowel can develop weak places which will burst under high pressure, allowing stool and bacteria to leak into the abdominal cavity. These weak places are called

The risk of perforating the colon occurs during changes in pressure while introducing the enema. Once the enema is actually in, the colon will usually relax to accommodate the increased volume, so from a pressure standpoint, there is little danger in retaining the enema for quite a long time. However, the colon is very efficient at absorbing water. It is inadvisable to leave water in the colon for more than 15 to 30 minutes, since the colon could absorb enough of it to disrupt the electrolyte balance of the body. Normal saline is a solution of water and salt approximately equal to the electrolyte balance of the blood, containing about 9 grams of table salt per quart of water, and might be safer than water to use for enema scenes.

Some people like to add substances to enema water; for example, you ask about Castile or ivory soap. Irritants such as soaps, or salts in higher concentrations than those found in blood, will increase the amount of cramping, making it hard- er to retain the enema for any period of time and possibly increasing the risk of spasm. Adding alcohol or drugs to an enema can be dangerous. The colon is very efficient at absorbing alcohol or dissolved medications, and the amount of absorption can be unpredictable. For example, an amount of wine which would have a relatively mild effect when taken by mouth might be absorbed more quickly and completely from the colon, to the point of causing dangerous intoxication.

PHOTO: JIM BRYAN

Enemas are not for everyone. People with certain intestinal problems , such as diverticulosis, ulcerative colitis, Crohn's disease, or unexplained blood in the stool, should avoid enemas unless they have a doctor's approval. Anyone with unexplained severe abdominal pain should avoid enemas and seek medical advice at once. Those who take digoxin (a heart medicine) or diuretic medications, or who have kidney problems, should avoid prolonged retention of enemas to avoid unbal- ancing the electrolytes in their blood. Some people, such as those with irritable bowel syndrome, are likely to find an enema a painful and very unpleasant experience. However, many people enjoy the sensation or the situation of enema play.

The rectum is more delicate after an enema, and safe sex precautions are even more essential than if no enema were used. Care and common sense will ensure that everything comes out okay in the wash and afterwards.

Info and Photo Set $10 (refunded with first order). State that you are over 21 and v to receive sexually oriented mate CO email me:marcoent@worldnet.at

Critic's View: Pornography Is Not Sex

By Christopher J. Hogan

Pornography may depict sex graphically. It may arouse sexual feelings. It may even aid in masturbation, couple, or group sex. In the end, however, it remains inanimate and thus not a sexual act.

Pornographic videos simulate sex by being only one step away. They display men having sex. The cum shot is critical as it proves that these men on some levels were not acting, but were filmed having a genuine sexual experience . It is so central to the industry that it is referred to as "the money shot." Reviews of porn videos are, then, two steps removed. They attempt to simulate the videos which simulate sex by depicting with words the real sex these men had. Just as the cum shot is emphasized in videos, it is dwelt upon in reviews. Inordinate amounts of column space are spent on who shoots, when they shoot, how much they shoot, and how far they shoot. Using written language , reviewers must try to relate the physical intensity of experiences they have only seen in two dimensions.

Words are fragile vessels in which to transport sexual experience . Not only do they rarely convey the fullness of the physical feelings, but there quite simply aren't enough of them to last for several pages of writing intensely about sex. Clinical terms are generally avoided in pornography because they are so clinical. Who's going to rush out and rent a video that features lots of "oral-anal contact" or "erotolalia"? Once those are elimi- terms left. For example, to say that two men have anal sex, one could write that they "fuck," "screw," or, as the hopelessly romantic might say, "make love." One must get

MAKING PORNO

dangerously creative after that, and that's not easy. Few people can use terms like "baton of joy" or "poop chute" and sound reasonably intelligent. I certainly cannot.

FILM MAKING

The difference between a good porno movie and a bad one is rarely the actors, the script, or the setting. It usually comes down to the technical proficiency of the people behind the cameras. The reader may think a reviewer pretentious to discuss camera work, lighting or sound quality. Watch a few badly filmed, poorly lit videos in which the performers are inaudible but the ambient sound comes through loud and clear, and you'll realize just how critical the craft of film making is to the porn producer.

Editing is by far the most important of the production values. A sex scene in a porn film should be structured to correspond with whacking off. The action should set a pace for the viewer's own rhythm. Ideally, the performers come at about the same time as the viewer. If they shoot too soon, the viewer must go through the whole thing again with another scene. If they last too long, the viewer might feel he suffers from premature ejaculation. Good editing also engages us in the sexual fantasy by clearly showing who is doing what to whom. Too often videos are cut so that we see several minutes of footage in which it is impossible to discern what is going on. This lack of basic craft can be devastating to a film

GAY MEN & SEXUALITY

Gay porn creates a world of men. Women are so rare in this world that they might as well be extinct. Those of us who review "mainstream" gay porn (videos that depict only man-to-man sex) must ask ourselves how the filmmakers define and represent "gay men." What are the messages they send about masculinity and sexuality?

There has been a major shift in gay porn over the past fifteen or twenty years. Simply put, there is now more of a presumption that the characters are openly gay. Videos are set in the context of the gay subculture, and the characters navigate through that rather than the surrounding straight world. Plot lines including "straight" men engaging in gay sex are rarer and rarer. Now, we even see videos that follow the agony and the ecstasy of gay couples. We now see stories in which a gay man may trick outside his primary relationship, hire a hustler to act as a third for his lover and him, or be a sex industry worker himself and still be committed to one partner. Some videos have even forced us to examine if monogamy can by sexy. In addition, more performers publicly define themselves as gay. In interviews and videos in which the actors "play" themselves, we are seeing a greater number of men not only embracing but also celebrating their homosexuality.

In a genre that once glorified mainly the butch, the fag has emerged as a powerful icon. For reviewers, this means we are not so rigidly confined in describing men. Words like "beautiful," "cute," and "lovely" are no longer applied only to chicken in videos. Leather boys can be "adorable" and waify, young boys can be "handsome." Similarly, we are able to explore the erotic potential of a wider variety of gay sexuality as the film makers do. When discussing videos like "Lovers, Tricks, and One Night Stands," we can examine whether it's certain physical acts gay men perform or relationships between men that turn us on.

POWER & ROLES

How gay porn defines and represent sexual roles has also shifted Traditionally, there has been a divisio between the butch top who is insertive i anal intercourse and the either young o effeminate bottom who is receptive Recently, these roles have become mor fluid. We now see a number of beef "manly" men like Rip Stone or Tom Ka getting fucked and enjoying it on video We also have a proliferation of bot young and "queeny" tops who are ver aggressive.

Much of this change can be attribute to the increase in homogeneous cou plings that are represented. When tw muscle boys get together, at least one of them has to be a bottom. More importantly , the receptive partner is no longe portrayed as weak or passive. He ca now be strong. Likewise, the currer spate of European videos, most notable those by director George Duroy, that fea ture only nubile young men requires that some of them be tops. Boys, therefore, ar more than just the sexual possessions of older men who initiate them by fuckin them. They are more in control of the own sexuality whether they choose to b tops or bottoms. Less frequently, bu more frequently than in the past, we se couples in which there seems to be a tra ditional top / bottom dynamic that ge switched, completely blurring the con nection between persona and sexual role

Again, this all allows porn reviewers t discuss a greater range of sexual possibi ities. We can allow tough daddies to far tasize about getting fucked by som Czech boy and flaming pansies to get o on dreams of screwing rough trade. The shift of roles in pornography has als allowed us to exalt the erotic power of the bottom. Joey Stefano was one of the biggest stars in gay porn until his deatl He reached a higher level of recognition and adoration than any other botton has; however, with the rising recognitio of bottoms in both pornography an what is written about pornography, the are sure to be many more bottom divas.

Hardcore With A Punch

By John McCloud

The guy in the leather mask is lying on the bed, two hot unmasked men on either side of him, each holding an arm. A fourth man, also masked, is crouched between the first man's legs. The fourth man delivers a moderate punch to the first man's nuts, then another and another and another. The "victim" hardly flinches. In fact, every so often, he calls out, "Harder. Hit me harder!"

The punches build in intensity until they become a steady stream of really powerful slugs. Eventually the recipient flinches, his chest lifting slightly off the bed and his body contracting a bit. Still the pounding continues, until the guy gives a compressed cry and a muscular flinch that loosens him from his holders and bends his body in distress.

But after a brief pause to compose himself, he willingly lies back for more. Which is exactly what he gets, this time from the perpetrator's black-booted foot. The kicks get even harder than the punches, and still the scene goes no.

Welcome to Shotgun Video and the world of underground porn, the (almost) no-holds barred alternative to the slick Hollywood-influenced product churned out by the thousands each year. If you're seriously into SM or really get off on fetishes, from foot worship to armpit licking to covering yourself and your partner in food, underground porn is made for you.

Outside of a few major cities, unfortunately , you won't find much of this kind of porn at video stores. Generally, you have to order it by mail. And if you live in certain states, like Tennessee and Mississippi, you won't even be able order it. The companies that produce it face prosecution if they dare send it to you. So unless you bring it in yourself, you can't see it.

What's the difference between underground and mainstream porn?

The simplest answer might be that with alternative porn, what you see is what you get. There are no actors, only real men engaged in real sex, guys doing what they genuinely enjoy doing rather than what they're paid to do, whether they like it or not.

"These guys are really into it," testifies Shotgun owner "Roger," a graduate of the University of California at Berkeley who 20 years ago traded his psychology degree for a career as a professional sadist and two years ago started making porn. "I don't use anybody who's not into the scenes I shoot."

As John O'Leary, co-owner with Tim Morano of Kink Video, puts it, "It's more document than performance. A lot of times guys do our movies because they want a record of the kind of thing they're into. Not necessarily just for themselves. When you see other guys doing something that you like to do but thought maybe was weird, you don't feel so strange anymore."

In contrast to the cliched image of porn makers, there's nothing remotely sleazy-seeming about the majority of underground producers. With his trim, dark-blonde beard, stocky build, jeans and boots, Roger fits right into the Castro district scene outside his upper Market Street flat. His direct, confident manner and general sense of competence make him a nearly ideal prototype for a master, friendly and kind when he chooses but not at all fainthearted about meting out the most severe punishment.

By contrast, O'Leary and Morano, who moved from Brooklyn to San Francisco's South-of-Market district in May, look more like techno punks than porn makers . With a blue ring through his nose and duo-toned hair, O'Leary seems like someone who could be spinning house music, while you wouldn't be surprised to find the dark-haired Morano, with his slender build and quiet manner, at some startup software company.

Frank Ross, a former director for Live Video who started his own company, Third World Video, earlier this year, also belies the traditional porn maker image. Although he lives and works in a converted meat packing plant at the outer edge of Greenwich Village, the man himself , with his clean-shaven good looks, comes across as polite, thoughtful and generous.

Although most underground porn today is competently produced - there's adequate lighting, the camera is steady, the microphone doesn't hang down in the middle of the picture - it's still made on a minimal budget and lacks a lot of the flashy techniques that characterize mainstream tapes.

According to Ross, the same rules that govern Hollywood govern mainstream porn. Formula is king. There's more emphasis on the technical than the provocative side, and the performers look like they stepped off the set of Melrose Place. Perfect bodies, perfect faces, perfect hair (on their heads, that is - god forbid they should have a single strand on their chests!) and, of course, perfect cocks, though not necessarily their own. As Jeff Stryker recently admitted to a writer for the New Yorker, he couldn't keep it up in his first two movies, so someone else did the actual fucking. By shooting in super close-up, you couldn't tell the genitals belonged to somebody else.

There are no stand-ins in alternative porn. And while the guys are hot, they aren't necessarily perfect. Though generally fit and trim, not all have washboard stomachs, gleaming pecs and bulging biceps.

Just as important, they aren't the same 12 guys you see in everything else. While

you'll typically see someone in three to six alternative tapes, you aren't likely to see him in 30. There are exceptions, of course. Bob Jones used Rick Bolton in dozens of his bondage and punishment tapes, and until his death, Frank Vickers appeared in a sizable number of tapes for Live. Nonetheless, by and large, the smaller specialty companies rely on a steady stream of nonprofessionals. And it is a steady stream.

"Lots of guys are exhibitionists and like to show off," says O'Leary. But, he continues , they aren't interested in showing off if the scene doesn't turn them on.

During an hour-and-a-half interview for this article, Roger's phone rings at least three times, all guys responding to an ad for players he runs in a local gay paper. Roger prefers the term "players" rather than "performers," to emphasize the fact the guys are doing what they enjoy, not just giving a performance for the money.

The situations in underground porn are developed directly from potential per-formers' - or players - own turn-ons. The producers put in a lot more time both interviewing prospective performers and then getting to know the guys who make the cut.

"With this kind of work, you can't just pick guys from headshots to fit into some scenario you've come up with," says Ross, "If I find someone I think is interesting and he wants to do a film, I spend a lot of time talking with him about what he likes. Then I work up an idea from what he tells me. It's his own life on the screen, or at least his own fantasy."

Ross says he sometimes does use professional porn stars but only because they've expressed a desire to do a film that's more about their own lives than the standard stuff they shoot.

"They come to me and tell me they're eager to be able to put more of themselves into a scene. I do the same thing I do with everyone. I talk to them and find out what they're about," he says.

Roger picks only men with a lot of SM experience, men who know what they're getting into and are sure they can handle it. O'Leary and Morano care less about experience for most of their work, but they insist on guys who really have a passion about whatever they're into.

Happily for anyone tired of the sameness of mainstream porn, alternative porn appears to be a growing industry. O'Leary and Morano started Kink in 1994 with 20 foot fetish titles they had made for their own enjoyment. The company now has a library of 57 videos encompassing not only foot play but also ass play, sucking, spanking, shaving, jock straps, food sex and, by the time this article appears, cock and ball torture.

"We'll probably be into everything by year's end," predicts O'Leary, who says the company, which moved from New York to San Francisco in May, is growing "by leaps and bounds."

Business for the two-year-old Shotgun has also been prospering , even though the tapes are available only directly from the company. "What I'm especially pleased about," says Roger, "is most of my sales are repeat customers. Some have bought every video I've made."

Ross has produced only a few videos so far, but he's also taken on distribution for a few other alternative porn directors who are just getting started.

"There's a lot of new talent out there, but it isn't easy to make a go of it. Distribution is the hard part," he explains.

Unlike the others, however, Ross hopes to see underground as well as main-stream porn move in new directions, with a return to the creativity and eroticism that marked the industry in the early '70s.

"I think this kind of stuff, my own films included, started to get formulaic, too, just like the mainstream stuff. It's more real, but there's a psychological and erotic dimension that's missing. I'm not sure how to break away, I'm not sure the market will support it, but I would like to try," he says.

In the meantime, mainstream porn is absorbing themes and images from alternative porn. San Francisco-based Hot House Productions, producers of Bullwhip Videos, makes its own alternative titles under the Plain Wrapped Video logo, with fist-fucking as a major motif. Fist-fucking in general has entered into

Making Porn Is Like Making Sausage by Robert Kirsch

"Making porn is a lot like making sausage - you enjoy it a lot more i you don't see how it is made." Tal Lloyd, video editor, Titan Media Following are excerpts from a diar kept by the author during the film ing of Titan Media's "Desert Train"

DAY 2

Jackson is notorious for verball abusing his partners…his banter i sometimes too much for the crev Cliff Parker had to leave the are when Jackson snarled at Xavie "Open wide for Chunky" while h had his ankles around his ears. In th final cut it was very hot and outra geous.

We moved the scene to the ease ment around freight train tracks an finished the take. A huge train rolled by. The two are going for it i the cab of the truck, very surreal. Th engineer did a double take but w figured that his stopping a 100 ca freight train was unlikely. We show an incredible cum shot and hea back to the house for dinner. Bot models are covered with dirt an sand, but grinning from ear to ear.

DAY 5

Sometimes in filming porn or fights for every shot, place ever body part and, bit by bit, piece together a sex scene. But, other time when two guys are really attracted each other, you just try and get it o tape. Such was the case wit

numerous mainstream porn tapes.

Still, in most porn hard-core action is hinted at rather than shown. Instead of watching someone get his nuts kicked, you see the guy with his legs spread, then you see a shot of the boot, followed by a thumping sound and a close-up of the guy's grimacing face. You never see the actual contact, which may or may not actually have occurred. Punishment consists of a few light spanks, a faked slap across the face, a whip that cracks but doesn't flog. A boot may get kissed once or twice, but it never gets licked clean, and the bottom doesn't spend a half hour rapturously running his tongue and lips over every inch of the top's naked foot.

At this point, it's only the alternative market where you find the real thing.

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Porno The Next Generation

By D. Travers Scott

I've read cultural theory - porn as his-blah [×3+] thing else entirely to feel it in action, to hold in my hands gay magazines that are 40 years old, to see movies made before I was born. As an Invert-Homosexual-Homophile -Gay-Queer, these are my folk tales, cave paintings, work songs: a history still being discovered, rewritten and bulldozed. Fragile and incomplete, I feel lucky now to have some of it on tape.

In college, my queer nationalism rejected vidporn as part of assimilationist homosexual culture. Unsafe! Ghettoizing!

Patriarchal! Classist, racist, colonialist! I wrote smug term papers deconstructing "Black Workout" videos. OK for occasional beating off, but overall vidporn was boring, full of hairless Chihuahua boys and gym-damaged clones, yadda yadda. I lightened up after meeting some people in the industry, but still rarely watched videos.

Recently I heard from a man with "something to show me". Alan Parker and I had both written for Steam, and he turned out to be a cute, boyish-looking 42-year old. No pretensions of being an artiste. He had assembled a book called

"Porno Angels In Heaven: A Tribute," eulogizing 46 gay porn stars. Next to magazine shots and video box covers, he had assembled obituaries, career summaries and interviews.

The information was fascinating: Lee Ryder's passion for floral design, Scott Taylor's performance art, Ed Dinakos' care for his hustling clients, Beau Mathews' faith in God, Jason Steele's Mensa membership and psychotherapy career. The collaborative energies at Surge Studios: Al Parker's creative direction , his lover Steve Taylor's financial management and performer Mike Davis' sets.

Alan included darkness as well: Chris West's suicide immediately after completing his first film. Alan Lambert's suicide protesting his Canadian government. Marc Radcliff's bathtub drowning. Billy London's head and feet ultimately being discovered in a trash dumpster. Joey Stefano's overdose.

Alan's book presented porn and porn stars as complex, contradictory, real; more so than behind-the-scenes puff pieces or ironic art school projects. The men weren't paid pecs I could easily dismiss . Most cared sincerely about their work, and Alan cared sincerely about them.

I got reacquainted with vidporn as Alan began sharing the angels' movies with me - he had a storage locker full. He told me of a trick my age who, after viewing some of Alan's tapes, had exclaimed, "God! They're not using con-

Eduardo and Brian. Eduardo -surly, hairy and handsome looks like he'd rather fuck you than talk to you. Brian-wiry, defined, hard and quiet, has a smoldering sexuality. They glowered at each other from across the room the night they arrived. I was concerned that they didn't like each other. But, like Chinese fighting fish, as soon as the barrier was removed all hell broke loose! It was the first time I remember the crew actually going nuts over what was happening. I was watching them as they were visibly turned on and having a hard time concentrating.

We were shooting in a palm tree grotto where the wind had blown down so many palms that you could actually fuck on them. Unfortunately we didn't take into consideration that the wind might return. Sure enough, about 3:00 p.m. the wind picked up and started hurling sand and everything not nailed down into our faces. Eduardo and Brian just kept fucking. Nothing seemed to deter them, so we just kept going, following their every move. We were all sweating and running by the time we got to the cum shot.

DAY 6

We started out really early again. We climbed an unknown canyon, found an incredible waterfall complete with great rocks to shoot sex on. As usual we didn't see another soul. About mid-morning we finished most of the scene. Bruce and half the crew hiked a little further on to shoot some cutaways of the models in

doms!" Not only had he never done such a thing, he'd never even seen it. I'd seen pre-AIDS porn, but never such a dizzying array. Cum spraying out between lips locked tight around dicks, spilling down the shaft, licked off faces, dripping from assholes. I was inspired, but not to have unsafe sex. Seeing so much of it changed what I took for granted. As someone who'd used condoms the very first time he had sex, it made me look at it differently - and I began to see many other new things.

My perspective has a hard time with the lack of humor in porn, the utter seriousness with which the movies take themselves. I like rough, butch sex, but I also like to giggle, flex roles and break character. I've always viewed this as an old school / new guard division.

Alan showed me Jack Deveau's "Boys of Riverside Drive," in which the lovers' anniversary-dinner argument broadened the humor of the cultural macro, "Mmm! Tastes just like chicken!" "If I eat this, I can never enjoy another Disney movie!" joined my lexicon of one-liners. Bordering on the absurd, "Heavy Machinery" presents a disembodied giant cock floating through the air-in 3-D.

Contemporary German director Sebastian Bleisch featured guys who draped each other in flowers, romped about in mud, sang, danced and fucked like jackrabbits. We've all heard guys bemoan porn-acting in bed, "ohyeah-suckthatbigdick ," as the investment banker affects his best Jeff Stryker. Emulating instead the playful sensuality and the puppydog horniness of Bleisch's movies would be welcome in my bed anytime.

I was surprised at the camp, fun and up-front sexuality in loops from AMG Studios, Pat Rocco and other unknown 1960s directors. Gays laughed before Stonewall? Made movies? Were not entirely consumed by self-loathing? I knew these generalizations were not true, but the shock of seeing other scenarios made me aware how such stereotypes had been cemented in my mind.

The emotionless, stone-cold butch I'd projected onto much '70s gay culture was unfair and shaped more by Hollywood than any indigenous gay cultural product . In "Hotter than Hell," a '70s French movie filmed in gay New York, scowling, moustached "clones" didn't just stay in one place all night, anchored butchly to a bar rail, but - wearing nothing but towels - danced unabashedly in dick-flopping glory! Booty-shaking wasn't the sole territory of mousse-haired club kids. The movie also broke my stereotype of '70s bars playing nothing but disco. In one fierce gloryhole scene in "Hotter than Hell," the Spike is filled with uncredited industrial music which could mix comfortably with my oh-so-new-school Einstürzende Neubauten, Nine Inch Nails and Test Department.

Many of the tapes were surprisingly soaked with romance. Toby Ross' "Cruisin '57" was a nifty-Fifties nostalgia piece about high school fags finding each other. Heartwarming as hell, it also features fantastically hot, bent-over-the-backseat buttfucking.

Alan's videos also encouraged me to reassess straight men, that convenient enemy. Having made my peace mostly with the gay generations, I still tend to rant about straight men. Alan introduced me to Garcia and Yates' JO documen-taries of straight jocks and Marines. They provided an illuminating anthropology (as well as forcing me to fess up to the politically-incorrect allure of abusive, unreciprocating, straight assholes). I was amazed how differently some behaved from gay men, yet how similar others were. What the hell were these straight guys doing playing with their assholes? So willingly jerking off for and getting jerked off by fags? Jerking each other off? Sucking off Garcia? Never having experimented with circle jerks as a teen, these tapes broke down my sense of division from straight men. They confirmed my suspicion that sexual orientations were more fluid and flexible than the rigid identity I championed in college.

D. Travers Scott is the editor of Strategic Sex and appears in Best Gay Erotica 1996, Switch Hitters and Ritual Sex. another waterfall. Brian and I stayed behind readying ourselves to shoot stills when they returned. Suddenly, Bruce comes tearing through the trees, busily putting his camera back in the bag. "There's a sheriff up there with a gun," he whispers to me, trying to act casual. "Have everyone head back down the trail." The models and crew grab everything and head down the hill. Brian and I decide to split up since we had the camera masters and didn't know what the police presence was all about. As I came to the bottom of the hill, there was a ranger with a rifle and a walkie talkie. "You're trespassing on private property" he told me. "You have three choices. One. We can give you a warning, and it you are caught here again within six months you will be arrested. Two you can be cited for a misdemeanor and fined. Or three we can arrest you right now and let the bureau of land management deal with you, If I were you I'd take the first one and give very good answers to the officers a the bottom of the hill."

Apparently we had stumbled into a homeless sweep of the area. A rumor had gotten around that w were shooting a documentary on the homeless. We finished the sex scen-in another location - a very secur one. That night we all went out for dinner in town, and celebrated ou freedom.

Robert H. Kirsch is the director of production at Titan Media.

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THE SLEAZEHOUND JOURNALS by Scott O'Hara or the purposes of this column, I will impersonate… a sleazehound, someone who goes out prowling nightly, someone who never goes home hungry. This is not me; the events I'll tend to describe are memorable because of their rarity.

Saturdays are not quite the same phenomenon for me that they are for most people. I'm a writer; I don't work nine-to-five . So the primary meaning of 'weekend ,' to me, is that other men will be more available, at least in theory. So yes, I do try to hold some energy in reserve for Saturday night.

On a particularly auspicious Saturday night, about a month ago, I went out to Dolores Park at midnight. I wore my slit-seat jeans. Since I've never been able to walk behind myself and see the effect, I don't know how obvious the slit is to the casual passerby, but I know what effect the cool breeze has on my asshole. It makes me feel like a cat in heat. It makes my asslips feel like they're reaching out to grab whatever's nearest. It makes me feel like sitting down on a fire hydrant. As I walked down to the park, an eight-block walk, I could feel my cheeks rubbing against each other, I could feel the Vaseline dripping out of my hole (yes, of course when I'm going to the park I pre-grease!). I was humming a tune and had a predatory gleam in my eye.

An hour later, I left the park with a black cloud of depression hanging over me. No one was interested in my oh-so-available charms. Okay, I thought: I'll stop in at Safe-way for some snack foods, instead.

I almost made it there, But as I crossed Market Street, I noticed a stud in leather walking along Market in the direction of my apartment. I changed course. I followed him a bit; he looked real good. Leather pants, with stripes down the side; leather jacket; leather cap; big boots. He had a real butch swagger. I passed him, then made sure I stayed close - making sure I walked so that the slit in my jeans was accentuated.

After a while, he passed me again. This time, eye contact was made. I waited until we were nearly at my apartment before l passed him; I opened the front door, stepped inside, turned and waited - and he followed me in. He didn't say anything; his hand just went directly to my butt, and before I knew it, there were two fingers wiggling up inside me. I went limp. It took me a while to get him out of the lobby and into bed.

I fell face down on the bed, not bothering to undress; he followed my example, just

unbuttoning his pants, and his dick was hard and up my ass in about ten seconds. I love being fucked through that pair of jeans: there's some subliminal message sent by the fact of still wearing pants while being fucked, something along the lines of This is a real quickie, guy – that gives a real charge to my balls.

He came twice, that way, over the next twenty minutes; then he pulled out and fucked my face for another fifteen, and shot yet another load. God, I love these six-shooters ! (I've certainly never been one of them.) And then he fell asleep - still encased in leather. I was happy to just lie there next to him, purring: my ass was finally contented. (I'm not sure how long it had been; there's only one answer to that question, which is TOO LONG.) The guy had mentioned, by the way, before falling asleep, that he was an out-of-towner, from New York. Practically the only words he uttered.

Thirty minutes later, he groped his way hack into wakefulness, and said something about having passed out; I said yeah, looks like, and gave him permission to go right back to sleep if he wanted to. He did, and I did, and it was bliss.

When he woke up again, it was 5:30. He started to play with me again. Well, okay; I like getting fucked first thing in the morning, but I also had a full bladder, which I needed to empty before I took another pounding. (I guess for some guys, that sensation is pleasurable ; not for me.) Well, I tried, and tried, but couldn't: it was just at that stage where you can't quite get rid of it, but I knew if I had his dick up me it'd let go. So I started sucking him off again, while he stuck three fingers up my butt.

With all his buttplay, and the fact that we'd just spent the night curled up together, I started getting a little more intimate: I pushed his pants down, and started rubbing my fingers down between his legs. But the moment I touched his asshole, suddenly I was trespassing on some very forbidden territory: he tensed up, pushed my hand away, and I could tell that something had just changed in our relationship. Minutes later, he looked over at the clock, said, "Is that the right time? I gotta go" - and was out in about three minutes.

I'm not complaining about this guy's lack of versatility. I can't fault his technique, either. He was flawless. And realistically, I know that a repeat performance couldn't possibly have lived up to the wordless splendor of that midnight encounter. Fact is, I don't have anything to complain about. I just wish it had been recorded on video. I'd really like to be able to watch his leather-clad ass pounding into my jeans-clad one.

Episode number two, about two weeks later: I went to the Strand Theater, an old rundown theater on Market Street that used to be a repertory house, but now just shows pornflicks. There's some sex in the balcony and the men's room, but since the audience is usually pretty minimal, your chances are slim, especially if you've got quaint notions about attractiveness. I go there mostly for the memories, of which I have many.

This time, I was there for about an hour, jerking off to the bad porno, watching several guys come and go around me; none of them very appealing to me, and none of them very aggressive, either, so nothing happened. As usually happens, I was getting ready to go when I noticed a figure sitting in the shadows off to the left. I couldn't see much of him, just his white baseball cap. And the fact that his hand was moving up and down. (Hey, you'd be amazed how many of the guys who go to these pornflicks refuse to even jerk off while watching them!) So I stuck around, sitting about six seats away from him.

He was taking looks over at me; for ten minutes we cruised each other. I'd decided it would work better if I "played it straight" and pretended disinterest in his dick; so I let him move over next to me. He grabbed my dick.

"Man, that's a big dick!" He kept repeating that, all during the encounter. He also said "It's my first time here." Well, he knew how to turn me on. I eventually reached over and felt his dick, which he'd tucked back into his underwear - and suddenly my facade crumbled . With just a brief squeeze, I could tell that his dick was made for the inside of my throat. How so? Well, it's hard to give specifics; but it was real fat, and not too long, and it wasn't hard, just , substantial. And oh yes: it obviously had a foreskin. My head started to go down. But he pulled away, wanted to move back into the shadows. Okay; I followed him. When I eventually got my mouth around his dick, I wasn't disappointed. It didn't get real hard, but his reactions told me that he was totally mind-blown and turned-on by my sucking. He had to pull my head away twice, in quick succession, because he was trying to prolong it. Me, I'm not very much into prolonging blowjobs; I just want to get that cumload in my stomach where it belongs. And eventually I succeeded. He thought he was gonna pull out and shoot in his hand, but I managed to prevent that, He didn't struggle much. When I finally finished cleaning up the head of his dick, and his foreskin was relaxing back over the head, and he'd stopped shaking, I sat up again. He was shaking his head. "You're baaaad," he said. "You're fuckin' baaaad." What could I do but grin?

I wanted so desperately to give him my phone number. I'm pretty well-known for my allergy to long-term relationships; but here was a man who could empty his nuts down my throat every day for a year, and I would-n't complain. He didn't seem likely to be interested in moving in with me; he certainly wasn't about to get possessive. And he didn't take an unreasonable amount of time reaching orgasm, either. Maybe he's not quite my ideal, but he's close enough. But of course, he's also someone who wouldn't call me. I don't know whether he had a wife at home; it seemed entirely possible. If not, I'm sure he still lived with his mother, and in either case, he wouldn't want to have my phone number in his pants pocket. So I resisted the urge to offer it. I just grinned at him, and thanked him; and he left. I left about ten seconds later, knowing that it couldn't get any better.

This guy did give me a name: Mike. Of course, I don't know if it was real, but it was real enough for the balcony of the Strand Theater.

Scott is a retired pornstar who does most of his sleazing in San Francisco.

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The Art of Graham David Smith

Graham David Smith, aka Cline, was born in London, England. He studied at the Royal College of Art. From the age of 16 to 32 he lived with Eric Hebborn who was called the most successful art forger in five decades. Smith's life partner and loving friend, John Kenneth Elliker, died in 1987. Playing doctors and nurses from the age of six, Smith was always the patient; in cowboy and Indians he was the one tied up, shirt raised, pants lowered . His longest period of complete bondage was five days of diapering, beating, being wrapped in latex and tortured with cigarettes, needles and razor blades. "I believe that if sex was meant for the human race and was to be solely pro-creational , we would not have the God-given gift of creative imagination," Smith asserts. "Thank heaven we do!"

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STEAM Magazine Evaporates

SAN FRANCISCO

Porn star Scott O'Hara's quarterly sex journal STEAM folded after more than three years of publication. O'Hara attributed the decision to cease publication to losses incurred from launching Wilde, a glossy, four-color magazine that combined X- rated visuals with serious articles. Wilde failed after only a few issues but racked up several hundred thousand dollars in debts.

STEAM, subtitled "The Literate Queer's Guide to Sex and Controversy," had the no-frills look of scholarly journals published by universities, but it consisted primarily of articles describing the best cruising spots for sex in cities all across the globe, from small towns in Arkansas to major world capitals. Blunt rather than erotic, articles gave specific locations, talked about what kind of men frequented a particular area and detailed what kind of sex took place there. They also warned about which spots were the most heavily patrolled by police and where sting operations went on.

O'Hara drew a lot of flak for an editorial in one of the last issues in which he announced he would no longer practice safe sex despite being HIV positive. He argued that condomless sex was more enjoyable and if somebody was worried about becoming infected, he should have sex with someone who would use condoms.

New European Condom Standard

AMSTERDAM

Dutch safe-sex advocates have expressed concern about the new European standard for condoms, saying the new EN600 norm would make con-doms so thick and unenjoyable that fewer men would use them. They say the Dutch standard, which puts more emphasis on the quality of rubber used to make the condom, is more sensible. LRC, the world's largest condom maker, has already launched a new condom, the Durex Extra Strong, that meets the EN600 standard.

One plus for the new standard, according to London's Pink Paper, is its length, 10 mm longer than the current British standard . British and European men complained brands currently on the market were too constraining.

SM Group Celebrates 25th Anniversary

NEW YORK

Nearly 1,200 people attended the 25th anniversary celebration of the Eulenspiegel Society, one of the first formal SM organizations in the United States. The weekend -long event, held at the Hotel Pennsylvania, included seminars, fashion shows, demonstrations and contests. Dungeon parties took place all three nights. Although the majority of the society's members are straight, the organization includes gay, lesbian and bisexual members . The name, by the way, means prank or, perhaps more aptly, uninhibited play in German.

Spanner Hearing Date Set

STRASBOURG

The European Court of Human Rights will hear the so-called Spanner case October 21. The case stems from the 1990 arrest and subsequent conviction of a group of British men for engaging in consensual SM. Three of the men arrested eventually appealed their convictions to the European Court. One has since died. A win in the court would effectively force the United Kingdom to overturn the convictions. It would also help overturn the law under which the men were arraigned.

SMers Protest Police Harassment

LONDON

More than 200 protesters gathered on short notice to protest alleged police harassment of SM activi-ties . Police pressure prompted various pubs and meeting places to cancel permission for several regular SM events as well as the annual Sex Maniacs Ball. The ball was scheduled to raise funds for Outsiders, an organization that helps the disabled .

Acquittal in Whiplash Case

LONDON

A jury acquitted the manager of a gay club in Putney on charges of "keeping a disorderly house" following his arrest

during a police raid on a regular fetish event called Whiplash. Witnesses said some 60 officers took part in the raid. At the trial, police claimed SM demonstrations at Whiplash had been sufficiently violent to draw blood, which would make the event illegal. Witnesses and participants , however, denied this. They also denied other sexual activities took place at the event. The disorderly house law dates back to 1751 but is still in force. The manager of the Mineshaft, a gay club in Manchester, was recently acquitted on similar charges stemming from a police raid there in 1994.

Consent No Defense in SM Injury Case

TORONTO

The Ontario Court of Appeal ruled that consent is not a defense if SM sex results in injury. In a majority decision, Justice David Griffiths said consent is "no answer…when actual bodily harm is objectively foreseeable and caused."

The ruling came in a case in which a man was arrested after a complaint by his girlfriend, who reported he had inflicted multiple bruises and injured her rectum. The man was convicted of sexual assault and sentenced to 34 months in prison.

In upholding the conviction , Griffiths argued, "The sadistic activity here involved bondage…[and]. . .the intentional infliction of injury to the body and rectum of the complainant . The consent of the complainant, assuming it was given, cannot detract from the inherently degrading and dehumanizing nature of the conduct ."

Gay MDs Label Oral Sex Low Risk

NEW HAVEN, CONN.

A policy group of the Gay and Lesbian Medical Association issued a report claiming transmission of oral sex is very unlikely during oral sex. "Most studies have not found a statistically identifiable risk," said Alvin Novic, M.A., a professor at Yale University. Although a subsequent report from another medical source revealed HIV actively reproduces in the mucous membranes above the lymph glands in the throat, Novic reconfirmed the finding that oral sex poses little if any risk of HIV infection. The new findings regarding HIV reproduction in the throat, he said, do not preclude the possibility of infection through oral sex, but oral sex nonetheless "doesn't seem to be a realm through which infection takes place." The GLMA pointed to unprotected anal intercourse as the principle means of HIV infection among gay men.

Police Raid Gay Strip Bar TORONTO

Twenty officers of the Toronto Police Department's Special Investigation Services (formerly known as the morality squad) arrested 19 men in a raid on Remington's, a popular gay bar that stages regular strip shows. The shows sometimes include simulated sex. Reports in the local gay weekly Xtra. indicate police upper eche-not beer had lons informed of the action ahead of time and were angry it happened. The raid followed shortly afte Toronto's gay community commemorated a series o 1981 bath house raids tha many regard as the key factor in the rise of ga political power here.

According to Xtra!, SI spent as much as $100,00 on the investigation lead ing up to the raid, which the newspaper pointed ou could have been accom plished with a single visi Members of the Church Wellesley Police Advisor Committee, which serve the city's gay area, con demned the action.

Six Sex and Leather Businesses Close SAN FRANCISCI

The closure of sever established leather and s

Daddy is standard queer zine fare which includes: letters to the editor, friction fiction, several nude pictorials, classifieds, extensive personals. If you are into that Daddy / Boy thing then check this out.

Dirty

Price: $3.75, Subscription Info: 6 issues for $14.95. Chris Leslie, Box 1697, Peter Stuyvesant Station, NY, NY, 10009 email: riotboyyy @aol.com web, site: http:// www.dirty.com/

This zine is for those who find the shaved pink bodies of main-stream porn too antiseptic to be a turnon. The photos are of guys straight off the streets of New York City, and the cruising stories are of dark parks and subway platforms .

Diseased Pariah News (DPN)

Price: $3.00, Published: four issues a year ("please be patient - we're all dying, demented, or lazy or possibly all three.") Subscription Info: four issues for $10 (US), $12 (Canada) and $20 (elsewhere) check or money order to DPN, c / o Men's Support Center, P.O. Box 30564, Oakland, Ca 94604, (510) 533- 3412, dpnmail@netcom.com. Please don't subscribe for more than one year at a time for the future is mysterious.

Though DPN is not a sex zine, per se, it is sexy. It is by far the funniest (intentionally) of all the zines I reviewed. In their own words "DPN is a patently offensive publication of, by, and for people with HIV disease (and their friends and loved ones). We are a forum for infected people to share their thoughts, feelings, art, writing , and brownie recipes in an atmosphere free of teddy bears, magic rocks, and seronegative guilt. We encourage people with HIV to submit material." DPN features include Page Two Boy (???), articles (including "What To Do

Once You're Dead"), letters to the editor, lots of recipes all encouraging "GET FAT, don't die!" center-fold boy, poetry.

Foot Scene

Solely Devoted to the Male Foot, Price: $10, Published: quarterly, Subscription Info: NFN Enterprises, PO Box 150790, Brooklyn, NY 11215-0790, Tel / 718-832-3952, Fax / 718-832-3952 *51, email: nfn@netcom.com. 1 year subscription (including ad) $30.

Foot Scene is the zine for you if you're into men's feet. There's black and white photos of guys taking their shoes off and getting their toes sucked, sex stories, video reviews, and a large section of personal ads, many with pictures of the advertisers' feet. The publisher also does Kink Video, and many of the tapes are foot-related .

GRUF Magazine

Great Unshaven Faces, Price: $5.00 (U.S.), $7.50 (Canada), Published: four issues a year, Subscription Info: one year is $20 (U.S.), $30 (Canada), $40 (elsewhere) in U.S. currency checks or money orders. California residents add 8.5% sales tax to GRUF Magazine, 2235-A Market Street, San Francisco, CA 94114, (415) 863- 0212, GRUFone@aol.com.

GRUF includes: friction fiction, naughty photos, astrology, a cyber column, a featured GRUF artist, a music column, a European connection column, and personals. The photos and art are hot. You can tell these are technoguys because the layout is well done. I just wish they would show us more of the hottest of hot GRUF men - Patrick.

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THE VIRGIN HUNT

By Jack Ricardo he best sex is with a man who's never been touched by another man before, a man who has never had his dick blown and who has never had the pleasure of a stiff cock pounding his mouth, a man who has never poked his pole up a man's willing butt-hole and who has never had his butt dicked with a strong piece of a meat.

So I hunt virgins.

A couple times a year I get this craving for cherry juice so I head to a watering hole on the wrong side of town, to a straight bar-room where red-necks lap up their brews while chicks croon sad cowboy tunes to the music pumping from an ancient jukebox.

So I went to this bar, bought a brew, sat on a stool, and cased the ioint.

He was bending over the pool table to shoot the four ball in the side pocket. His T-shirt slid up to reveal the edge of his shorts. White briefs with two thin lines of color circling his waist. His ass packed inside those shorts was rounder, finer and firmer than any I'd seen in months. I swiped my hand over my mouth, flapped my legs open, pawed my crotch, sipped my brew, and leered.

He couldn't have been more than 25 years old. His hair was almost orange and was probably cut with a chain saw. He was slim and tall. A thin stringy mustache leaked from his lips to his chin. Sparse snatches of orange hair snaked from the collar of his T- shirt. Pock marks mapped his face, his eyes were dark and too close together. his nose was bent. He was almost ugly and definitely the most rugged bastard in the place. Choice. Prime. My virgin meat for the night.

When he wasn't playing pool, he stood on the side holding up the wall. Once in a while he'd tug the pouch of his jeans. He was horny. But the few chicks still on display were damn near falling down drunk. He cruised a couple but never made a move.

The witching hour was near. The only ones left in the joint were sloppy drunks and horny bastards. The juke box was playing a soulful tune. A chick was blubbering in her brew. Two rednecks were arguing about pickup trucks. My undefiled male was sitting at the edge of the bar, a hand crudely caressing the worn crotch of his Wranglers.

I sauntered over and stopped in back of him. I was close enough to reach out and taste the elastic of the shorts sneaking from under his Wranglers. I was close enough to smell his sweat. I peered at him in the mirror over the bar and said. "You're a pretty good shooter. I'll play ya a game."

The guy swirled in his seat. He smirked and said, "Sure, why not?"

We played one game, then another, then another. He won all three. I bought him a beer. His name was Benny. We sat next to each other and swigged our brews. "I let ya win those games, Benny," I said.

BOOK SECTION

A sly smile cut across my face.

He snapped his head towards me, laughing, and said, "Bullshit."

"I did," I said softly but strongly.

"Yeah, huh?" Benny said. "One more, then. One more, and I betcha I win again."

"Let's go," I told him and slid off my stool to slip two quarters into the pool table. I was on my haunches racking up the balls. Benny was at the other end chalking his stick. His crotch was directly in my line of vision. I swiped my tongue over my lower lip and asked, "What are we playing for?"

"Another brew," Benny said as he set the chalk down and blew dust from the end of his cue.

I flipped the rack from the balls and ambled around to Benny. He was bent over, ready to break. "I'm gonna whip yer ass, Benny," I said quietly.

"No you're not," he said, aiming his cue.

"I'll bet my shorts on it," I said.

Benny leaned over the table, poised, ready, but he didn't shoot. He strained his neck and gazed at me. His brow was creased.

"We're about the same size," I said, my eyes drilling into his. "My shorts against yours." I waited.

He hesitated, then said, "You got a bet, buddy. I win, you gotta give me your shorts." He laughed.

"And I win, you give me yours," I told him. I didn't laugh.

He nodded his head and broke the balls with a sharp crack. The bartender yelled, "Last call."

I won the game. Benny was awkward and embarrassed as he shuffled over to the bar. It was too late to buy more brews. He was pissed. "Forget it, Benny," I said.

"No," he said, more vehemently than I expected. "When I lose, I pay up. I got a six-pack back home in the fridge if you wanna come over."

His eyes were begging me not to take him up on it. I said, "You don't owe me no beer, Benny," and gulped down the last of my brew. He heaved an obvious sigh of relief. I set the empty on the bar and added, "But I do want those shorts you're wearing."

His face turned as orange as his hair.

Benny lived in a small apartment. He locked the door and opened the fridge. He took out two brews, snapped them open, and handed me one. We sat at a tiny counter in the kitchen. Silence and tension filled the room. Benny grumbled, "I got a clean pair of shorts in my drawer, I'll get'em for you." He got up.

"I want the shorts you're wearing," I said, as I rose and set my beer on the counter.

Benny stopped and turned. Beads of perspiration were draining down his forehead. I stared him down and said, "And I'll get those shorts myself, if you don't mind." Droplets of sweat were dripping under my arms and streaking down my ribs. I reached out and unbuckled his belt.

Benny was staring at me like I was loco. But he didn't push my hands away. A light dawned in his brain. He saw a faggot in front of him and figured he was about to get a blow job. The first blow job he ever got from a man. I could see the indecision behind his eyes quickly turn to agreement . "Go ahead," he muttered.

"Take off your boots," I said and unbuckled my own belt.

His eyes widened. "What are ya doing?" he muttered.

I said again, "Take off your boots." I didn't leave any room for disagreement . I unbuttoned the top button on my 501s and pulled open the snaps of my shirt.

Benny leaned his ass on the stool and tugged off his cowboy boots. He stood up and waited. Worry was sweeping over his face like lava from a volcano. I stepped over to him, unbuttoned his Wranglers, unzipped him, and pushed his jeans down to his ankles. He stepped out of them. I kicked them aside.

The white of his shorts glowed like a lighthouse beacon. The clammy steam of his shorts rose in a hazy mirage. The glistening hair on his legs sizzled. I said, "Take off your T-shirt."

Benny stood there, hands at his side. Unsure, uneasy, cherry. Slender strands of orange hair drizzled from his Adam's Apple then widened out to the nipples of each pec, then narrowed again and trailed down into the elastic waistband of his briefs. My tongue was dangling over my lip, my cock straining the pouch of my 501s. I inhaled, released a hefty breath, leaned back on my stool, crossed my arms over my chest, and said, "Take off my boots."

"What?" Benny blurted, a hint of anger framing the one word.

Slowly, carefully, I said, "Take off my boots, Benny. Now," I emphasized. "Before I have to spank your ass."

"Are you fucking kidding?" he spit out. He moved to pick up his Wranglers . "You're fucking nuts, you know that?" I grabbed his arm and flopped him over my lap.

"What the fuck…" he muttered and struggled. His cotton-covered crotch lay across my lap. My steel cock cramped inside my Levi's and pressed against his pouch. Before he could writhe out of my grasp, I strapped my elbow on his neck, lifted the other hand, and brought it down sharply on his ass.

"Heeeyyy," Benny yelped. He stopped struggling but twisted his neck to face me. "That fucking hurt," he cried.

"No, it doesn't Benny. It stings. It makes your ass know it's alive. You're gonna do what I say, ain't you, Benny?"

"Why the fuck should I?" he barked.

I gave him another sharp whack on the white cotton of his underwear that hid the two cheeks of his well-formed ass. "Because if you don't, I'm gonna beat your fucking ass so hard you'll have to shit standing up."

Benny didn't speak. Not in words. But I felt movement in the pouch of his shorts. I shifted my hips upward. My cramped cock pushed against his.

"What do you want me to do?" he whined, his hands dangling in front of him, his fingers gripping the legs of the stool.

"Take off my boots," I said, calmly, composed, adamant. Before he could react, I gave him one more swat for good measure, eased my hands under his arms, and slid him off my lap until he was kneeling on the floor. The pungent aroma of his armpits dampened my fingers. I brushed them under my nose then sucked the appetizing sweat-juice off each finger.

He sat on his haunches watching me suck each one of my fingers. His hands rested on his knees. He looked up at me like a lost puppy who'd just found his master. His cock bowed the pouch of his shorts. The outline of a bulbous cut head resembled an oversized cherry tomato just ripe for plucking.

I unbuttoned my 501s, plied the fly apart until the full and stiff pouch of my briefs was in full view, and fondled myself while I pushed one leg out to Benny.

Sweat was draining from his forehead . The minute hairs on his arms gleamed like gold and glowed with perspiration . He cupped one hand on the heel of my boot, grabbed the sole with the other, and pulled. The boot slid off easily. Benny held it for a second, gazing up, mesmerized by the black leather masculinity, by the strap with the dulled silver buckle that encircled the ankle. Cautiously, he set the boot aside and reached for the other.

"Clean it first," I said. "With your tongue." He glanced up at me, panic flashing in his eyes. "Do it," I ordered.

Benny wasn't startled, but his eyes grew bright. He was relieved. Appreciative. He was no longer in control . Whatever he now did, he was being forced to do. That was his justification . What he was going to do was not of his own choosing. The fact that he was getting off on it was immaterial. He'd ignore that. And he was getting off. The hard shaft of his cock palpitated against the pouch of his shorts. His cockhead ballooned to capacity and

BOOK SECTION cum leaked from the tip, splotching a dark area into the white cotton. He caressed the pipe of my boot and slowly lowered his head and licked the leather.

I watched and clawed at my cock through my shorts. Benny wasn't only licking my boot, he was loving my boot as he hugged it to his chest and lifted it. A spurt of pre-juice pumped out when Benny twisted his neck to lap at the bottom. Then he pulled the boot off, sat back on his heels, pressed down on the steaming rod inside his shorts, moaned longingly , and waited.

I said, "Pull that stiff cock out of your fly," and stood up.

Benny obeyed, slipping his hand inside the fly of his briefs, wrapping his hand around his hard piece, and snapping that stiff cunt-fucker out.

The cock Benny had sprouting between his legs was one fucking virgin beauty, the shaft was thick and smooth and colored by one thin purple vein that zigged round and round to the root. That cockhead was born to be sucked. The rounded head was smeared and silvery with juice and as wide as my mouth.

The sight alone was worth a million sucks. Straight Benny sitting on the back of his heels at my feet, his cock proud and pointing from the fly of his briefs. The smell of his sweat, of his apprehension, penetrated my senses. My insides shivered. I stood up, eased my Levi's to my ankles, and stepped out of them. Benny was watching me with a puzzled look on his face, a mixture of abhorrence and fascination.

My cock was hard and as sharp as cut steel, pulsating and prominently outlined against the white cotton of my briefs. I kept my eyes linked to Benny's as I carefully slid my thumbs into the waistband. Benny inhaled, and watching intently, holding his breath. I shoved my shorts down, pulled them off, and stood up. My cock was poised, the curving shaft aiming at my belly. I spread my legs. My balls were loose, low and bubbling with juice. Their hairs scratched against my thighs-and fired me.

Benny, galvanized by what he was seeing, exhaled in amazement. A man's stiff cock standing and waiting not six inches from his face, dribbling from the head. A man's hairy nuts hanging under, almost begging to be stroked, cupped and

"Suck my cock, Benny," I told him.

He cringed, terrified. He was aghast. I slapped him with my cock. Then wrenched my fingers through his hair, gripped the orange strands, and pulled his face to my cockhead. His lips stayed closed.

"Open that fucking mouth, you straight fucking asshole," I bellowed and pressed my leaking cockhead against his pursed lips, smearing the juice from side to side cautiously, deliberately . My nuts whacked against one of my thighs, then the other. It became a slow sensual dance and Benny joined in, closing his eyes, nodding his head from side to side carefully and willingly while my cockhead widened his slender stash and inched his lips apart.

And before you knew it, Benny was sucking his first cockhead.

He was like a child, leaning forward , his hands still on his knees, suckling my cockhead like a baby with a nipple, like a calf with a cow's teat. The heat and wet of his mouth sent shudders from my nuts to my toes.

I fisted my shaft and pulled my cockhead from the fucker's lips, pulled his head up, and whispered coarsely, "You liked that, didn't you, didn't you, boy?"

He began to shake his head, no. I yelled, "Tell the fucking truth, you bastard . You liked having my fucking cockhead inside your straight goddamn mouth, didn't you, you son of a bitch?"

"Yes," he yelled back, just as loudly , tearfully, not fearful but apprehensively .

I smiled widely and said, "Then you're gonna love this." I shoved him back until he landed on the floor, surprised , disconcerted, curious. He lay there on his back gazing up at me standing above him, naked, my stiff prong clamped in my fist. Like an obedi- ent dogface before a masterful DI, his hands were still at his side. His cock was still stiff and still sticking out from the fly of his briefs, resting on his groin, leaking and trembling in anticipation and expectation.

I kicked his legs apart until he was spread-eagle, then knelt between them. I gripped that gorgeous virgin cock with that wide knobby cockhead, aimed it to the ceiling, bent over and chowed down on virgin cockmeat, sliding my tongue round and round that ample polished knob, screwing the shaft of that entire goddamn cunt-fucker slowly down my throat until I had Benny wriggling under me, swishing his body from side to side, moaning like a fucking man in uncontrolled heat while I snuggled my nose into his cockhairs. Until I had him on the edge.

Then I lifted my head from his cock.

I was gasping. Benny was breathing like an express train barreling through a tunnel. "Please, please," he mumbled, his fingers clutched into fists at his side, his eyes squeezed tightly shut, his cock sitting alone and trembling.

"You want me to bring you off, don't you, prick? Don't you, cock-sucker ?" I was barely able to spit the words out.

"Yeah, yeah," Benny muttered in exasperated and confident expectation. "You gotta, you gotta…"

"I will, Benny, I will," I said, then flipped him onto his stomach.

He didn't protest, he didn't cry out, he didn't even fight back. I grabbed the waistband of his shorts and pulled them below the cheeks of his ass.

What a fucking ass! White as snow, firm as stone, virgin as a new-born . I squeezed my fingers into the skin of his waist, lifted his ass and rammed my face between his cheeks until I was able to smell, to taste his funk, until I was able to tickle the rim of his ridged hole, until I was able to slide my tongue round and round, deeper and deeper.

Benny was groaning loudly and forcing his ass up to meet the thrust of

my tongue-fuck while I was ravishing his ass with my mouth, tongue and face.

He was squirming under my face like the fucking half-ass sissy he was. I lifted my face. Spittle was dripping down my chin. I smacked his ass with one hand, then the other, and pulled his cheeks apart so I could see his cherry butthole. I liked what I saw. A living , heaving hole ready to be filled. I snatched one of the rubbers and the small tube of KY from my pocket.

Benny was crying, moaning, gasping . I smacked my hand down on his bare ass again and again and he squirmed, yelped and mumbled, "What are you gonna fucking do to me?"

"Whatever the fuck I want," I muttered . I was hypnotized by the red welts rising from his virgin ass. Gulping down my imploding enjoyment, I said "I'm gonna screw my goddamn cock right up your fucking virgin asshole, you god-damn man-cunt. "As soon as I push this fucking rubber down my man-fuck-ing rod, you're gonna feel it right up vour ass."

I squeezed the tip of the KY tube directly onto his twitching asshole and started greasing up his hole. I had him twisting and turning as my finger drove deeply up his ass and when I pulled it out he muttered shamelessly, "Why'd you stop? Why'd you stop? Why'd you stop?"

I said, "I didn't," and snapped his legs wider apart, ass on my knees, tapped his virgin butthole with the head of my cock, and said, "You ever had a cock up your ass before, boy? Huh? Huh?"

"No, no, never, never," Benny groaned. "Never…l…"

"You want this fucking cock up your asshole, fucker?" I roared and pressed my cockhead down on the rim of his hole.

I could feel him start to push himself up and say no. "Shut your fucking mouth," I said and pushed, my cockhead widening his hole and plopping inside. He screamed bloody murder. I held onto his hips and kept my cockhead buried inside that juicy ass while he struggled to try and become unclamped.

"Easy, kid, easy, you're… "

"It's fucking burning my goddamn ass," he bellowed. "It feels like a god-damn fire up there. Take it out, take it out, take it out." He was angry, complaining , bitching, but only half-heartedly . If he wanted, he could flip me off his ass easily. He didn't.

I began to easy my shaft up his ass while I calmed him, "You're gonna love it in a second, Benny. You're gonna fucking love feeling a man's stiff goddamn cock sliding deep into your guts, dicking your ass. You're gonna know what it's like to be a fucking cunt."

"Mmmmmmmm," he was moaning noisily. "Ohhhhhhhhh." It was a moan of pain intermingled with pleasure. His face was buried in his arms and in the nap of the carpet. I slid my hands around his hips until I was able to wrap my fingers onto his rod. And it was still a hard goddamn rod. That straight god-damn fucker wasn't as turned off as he thought he was. I jacked his cock while mine continued sliding up that tight little asshole of his. My cock felt like it was flamed with tiny torches touching and squeezing every pore, sending flames to my nuts.

When my cockhairs began scratching against the snow white and ribboned red of the cheeks of his ass, I groaned and yelled, "Yeah, fucker, yeah… How's it feel having a fucking man's cock screwing your cherry ass-hole , huh, cunt, how's it feel?" And I shifted my hips upward and slid my cock out and plugged it back in, all the time teasing, mumbling, trembling . "You like that, straight-boy, having a faggot's cock up your virgin ass?" Pumping his ass. "You like that, boy?" Plugging his ass. "Come on, you like that?" Screwing his ass. "You goddamn love it, you goddamn straight prick." Dicking his ass. "You're taking it like the fucking man you are. Like… " Fucking his ass, reaming it out with my cock.

"Yes," Benny grunted, heaving his ass up to meet every plunge of yes, [×3+]

.yeeessss…yeeeesssssss… " The smell of our mutual heat and the rank perspiration filled the room and went from his pores into mine. My cock was seared from the tiny clutching muscles of his ass and grazing the universe.

"Good." I said, panting, puffing, my breath almost out of control.

And I pulled my cock from his ass, flipped him onto his back. His chest was a mixture of grime and sweat, his cock trembling on his cockhairs, his balls were thick, hard and heavy marbles being held up by the elastic of his shorts. Benny was lying there shocked, dazed, wondering…

In one desperate movement I grabbed another rubber, forced it down onto his cock, lubed it with KY, shifted my weight, and slammed my ass down on his cock.

Benny lifted his hips recklessly and spontaneously and rammed his hips upward, pronging me deeper, [×3+] groaning, gasping, as the cum from that fucking virgin steel rod began shooting out of that thick cherry tomato cockhead and filling the rubber inside my ass.

I tore the rubber from my cock and my cock exploded. Cum slammed from my pisshole, spitting and splattering on Benny's hair, face, and chest. My shrieks drowned out Benny's savage snarls. I swiveled my asshole down onto his pole until his cockhairs and balls were bruising the cheeks of my ass.

After a brief pause, I stood up. Benny stayed on the floor, his eyes closed. I looked down at him and saw my used cum all over his face. He was as content as a kid after his first piece of ass. Something to tell his red-necked buddies about (which he'd never do).

I dressed, stepped into my boots, leaned over Benny, and pulled his shorts from his legs. He didn't open his eyes. I sniffed his shorts then stuffed them into my pocket.

It was a good hunt.

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HOLE: A Sordid Sort of Memoir

By David May had already been given my birthday flogging.

At a monthly leather party a few nights before (one so well attended each month, despite it being on a school night, that it often reminds me of the old days), I'd been standing about minding my own business, when a man I'd never seen before approached me with the dog collar I knew on sight.

You're David?

Yes…

You've seen this before?

Yes…

He fastened the collar around my neck, slipped a finger through the D- ring and pulled me by it to another part of the former warehouse (now a sex club), and to where my lover, Phil, was waiting.

David, this is my friend Paul, said Phil. You can call him sir.

Yes. sir.

Lick his boots.

I obeved.

As I licked the stranger's boots, Phil and Paul discussed me as if I weren't there, talking about types of bondage that might look aesthetic on my six-foot, one-hundred ninety pound frame, or whether or not I deserved to be fucked.

I was pulled from the stranger's boots to Phil's boots. I continued licking , still listening.

He has a hood, Phil told Paul, We should have brought it.

Yeah? Bet it looks good on him.

BOOK SECTION

After a few more minutes I was pulled to my feet and made to stand a foot away while they continued their conversation.

Are you going to fuck him?

Maybe later. After he's beaten. It's his birthday this Sunday, so I want to give him a treat.

Not long after that I was shackled to a Saint Andrew's cross and ordered to count in the usual manner (One, sir! Two, sir! etc.) while Phil whipped me. I obeyed, as always when collared. I felt the usual rush from the flogging, resulting in the usual hard-on when it was all over. Since it was my birthday in a few days, I was allowed to get off. I fastened the collar around my right boot, and in short order found a mouth eager enough to assist me. Splattering my cum all over my new friend's chest, I thanked him with a kiss and went looking for Phil. We left soon after that. After all, Phil had to work the next day.

Now it was Sunday, my actual birthday. I wondered what Phil had up his sleeve. Something was obviously up. There had been many phone calls from which I was excluded, many knowing looks between Phil and our friends. I had my suspicions.

I sat in the living room reading when he brought me a sandwich and a soda I hadn't asked for. Obviously, he had some activity planned that would prevent me from eating for a while. He didn't want me getting hungry in the middle of whatever was to come and have a hypoglycemic fit; because when my blood sugar drops too low, things can get ugly.

Half an hour later, Phil entered the room in leather and Levis smoking a cigar, always a good sign. I would, at the very least, get fucked on my birthday .

Don't you think you should change into something more comfortable ? he asked.

Sure, Daddy. What should I…?

Why don't you go into the bedroom and see what's there?

I did as he suggested and found a pair of boots, a leather harness and my black leather briefs with the front to back zipper laid out for me. I put them on and went back to the living room.

Very nice, he said. Now my boots need licking.

I have had a boot fetish since I was a child. The sound of boots clicking on the sidewalk gave me a rush even before adolescence. At the age of eleven, I saw a biker drive by on the freeway with thigh-high boots, jeans, gloves and no shirt. I masturbated to the image for years to come. Licking boot is a favorite activity of mine. Numerous men have demanded it of me, and I've never failed to respond with enthusiasm. As I groveled on all fours to obey Phil this time, he fastened the dog collar around my neck.

After Phil was satisfied with the condition of his boots, he took me to the bedroom where candles were burning and the black synthetic play sheet had been put on the bed. I was laid face down on the bed. The back of my briefs was unzipped. Yes, I would be fucked. I felt his full weight on top of me as he grunted, filling me with his cock, finally cumming with the words, Fuck you, fuck you!

Sweet romance.

Done fucking me, he secured my wrists together with a pair of leather cuffs and secured those to the D-ring of my collar, Blind folding me, he said, I have a few things to do now. You stay here and behave.

Yes, sir.

I stayed where he left me for some time, wondering what was next. He came in again, held my head in his hands and whispered, I love you.

Before I could respond, the door bell rang and he went to answer it, telling me to be good and stay put. I began to suspect what the evening was to hold for me.

Phil loves to see me get fucked by other men. He loves to tell me how my butt is his to give away. Our favorite memories of our last trip to Europe were going to backrooms in Amster-dam and London where Phil pulled down my Levis and told strangers to fuck me. While I was being fucked by these nameless men, Phil would lovingly whisper, I'm giving your butt away. To which I could only respond, Thank you, sir.

Something of the same sort of activity seemed to have been planned for tonight.

A few minutes later Phil returned with someone else.

This is my lover David, he said to the new arrival. I just finished fucking him. David, this is a friend of mine. You can call him sir.

Yes, sir.

My friend is horny so I said he could fuck you.

Yes, sir.

It's his birthday, he told the stranger.

Happy birthday.

Thank you, sir.

So you can fuck him, Phil continued to his friend. Or do anything else you want. Because he's a hole. Isn't that right, hole?

Yes, sir.

See you, Phil told the stranger.

Yeah, thanks.

My wrists were released from the collar, but the cuffs stayed on.

You like to get fucked, hole?

Yes, sir.

Let's see how much you like it. Suck on this.

I reached out blindly with my mouth, floundering a moment before finding the fat cock being offered to me. I tried my best to suck it down, wrapping my lips around my teeth, using my tongue as best I could. Suddenly the cock was pulled away from me.

Guess you don't really want it.

Yes I do, sir!

We'll see.

I felt my balls being pinched. Clothes pins, realized, were being fastened to my scrotum.

What do you say?

Thank you, sir.

Another was attached.

And?

Thank you, sir.

By the third clothes pin, I knew

BOOK SECTION what was expected of me. After each clothes pin was attached I responded appropriately. When he was satisfied with his work he told me to take a deep breath. The clothes pins were pulled off rapidly, making me cry out in pain as the blood rushed back.

Thank you, sir.

Good boy. Now maybe you can suck this right.

This time the cock was shoved into my waiting mouth. I sucked dick with my best technique, working the fat hose into something stiff and hard. Eventually I choked trying to take the whole thing down.

I heard the sound of a camera, its flash just bright enough to be seen

BOOK SECTION from the edges of my blindfold.

Apparently pleased with my enthusiasm this time, especially since I'd choked on his dick, he pulled his cock from my mouth and stuck a greased finger in my butt hole. Then another. I moaned softly.

How many do you think you can take, hole?

I don't know, sir, I answered honestly . I'd never successfully been fisted , and it had been more than ten years since anyone had tried.

Three, four?

I think so, sir.

My whole fist?

No, sir. I've never been fisted, sir.

I see. How many fingers do you think are in there now?

Three, sir? I guessed.

Try four.

Thank you, sir.

Good boy, he said with a slap on my ass.

I felt each leg being lifted over his shoulders.

Ready to get fucked?

Yes, sir!

He entered slowly, then pounded away. I grunted, groaned with pleasure .

Yes, sir! I cried. Thank you, sir! He paused a moment to undo my wrists.

Now pinch my tits like a good boy, he said.

Yes, sir.

I heard Phil come into the room.

See? he asked the stranger, his friend. I told you he was a hole.

I can see that.

He continued pounding into me. I continued to grunt and groan. I felt Phil's face next to mine. I'm giving your butt away, David.

Thank you, sir.

The doorbell rang again.

I wonder who that could be, said Phil. I heard him leave the room.

The man fucking me paused and I continued pulling on his nipples.

What a fucking hole. You keep pinching my tits so you must want it bad.

Yes, sir!

Then grunt like a pig! he commanded .

I felt his cock return to its earlier rhythm inside my ass hole. I grunted like a pig, or like I thought a pig would grunt since I'd never actually heard one, as he resumed using my hole.

I heard Phil return to the room just in time to see his friend shoot all over me. I heard him breath rapidly, then yell as I felt the hot cum splatter over my abdomen and chest.

Come on, said Phil to his friend. I'll get you something to drink. You look thirsty.

Phil refastened my wrists to my collar and they left the room.

A short time later the door opened again.

David, another friend of mine is here with his boy. You can call them both sir. They're horny and I told them what a hole you are, so… I guess they're both going to fuck you.

Yes, sir.

The door closed and I heard the two men talking, one giving orders to the other.

Open him up, ordered the daddy. Yes, sir, I heard.

My wrists were detached from my collar and I was rolled over onto my stomach. The new stranger, the boy, mounted my ass and proceeded to fuck me with sharp, hard strokes.

I'm just getting you ready for my man, he said. Then my daddy is gonna fuck you good. We hear you're a real hole.

Yes, sir.

A few minutes later we were interrupted .

Now me, said the strange daddy.

I was mounted again, my arms held down against my waist.

You like that, hole? Huh? he grunted.

Yes, sir.

Then talk to me!

It feels so good, sir. Fuck me, sir. Use my hole, sir. Tear me apart with that big cock of yours, sir.

That's better.

The two men, daddy and boy, continued to fuck me, taking turns. It went on for what seemed like a long time.

Phil came in shortly after that with the first stranger. I could hear them having sex as I was being fucked. It only added to the heat. Again, I heard the sound of a camera's flash.

I heard the doorbell ring again. Good, I thought. It must be the pizza.

You guys done yet, Phil finally asked.

In a little bit,

Okay, said Phil. Enjoy.

I heard Phil, and the first man to fuck me, leave the room.

When the two men decided that they'd had their fill, the daddy whispered in my ear.

Now you be careful, he said with a nasty chuckle. The man that fucks you next might not be as gentle as me.

I laid for a while on the bed alone, covered in sweat and cum, wondering what was next. Apparently it wasn't pizza.

The door opened. Phil came in with more friends.

David, it looks like all my friends are horny tonight, so I said they could fuck you too. Now one of them is a big hairy bear with a really big cock. Is that okay?

Yes, sir!

And you'll be a good hole?

Yes, sir!

I heard Phil leave the room.

So it's your birthday, today? a deep voice asked.

Yes, sir.

How many men have had your hole tonight, birthday boy? asked the second.

Four so far, sir.

Having a good birthday, hole? asked the first.

Yes, sir!

How many times have you come so far?

Not once, sir.

Oh? When will you come?

When Daddy says I can.

This answer seemed to please them. I heard a chuckle of approval from both of them.

My legs were lifted over a pair of

BOOK SECTION broad, strong shoulders. My hands wandered up the hairy torso and broad chest.

Like that?

Yes, sir.

Like this?

He rubbed the biggest cock I'd felt for a while between my legs.

Fat like a Coke can, huh? And when it comes, it's gonna shoot right against your prostate.

Yes, sir!

There was no ceremony or warm-up this time. No greased fingers preparing me for what was to come. He shoved the huge monster inside of me. I almost came. If I'd been allowed to touch myself, I would have shot all over his hairy chest right then and there.

Like that?

Yes, sir.

You like it like this? He slammed his cock hard inside me.

Yes, sir, I gasped.

Good!

He continued slamming inside of me, punch fucking me with his big dick.

Yes, / sir! [×3+]

Again, I've no idea how long this actually went on. Eventually Phil came back into the room with the others. He undid my wrist restraints, and, as if to punish me for this relative freedom, the stranger pulled out of me.

I felt the bed sway as the complete group of men got on it with me. There were grunts and groans, the sound of skin being stroked. They were jerking off all over me. One by one I felt each man's load splatter over me.

You too, said Phil. Shoot us a big birthday load.

There is something about being commanded to come that always makes it hard for me to come - performance pressure I guess. Nervously, I pulled on my dick, felt the gold ring in my cock between well greased fingers. I was hard almost at once. Strange hands caressed me, pulled on my pierced tits, fingered my asshole. I shot my load. I was relieved when I came, not wanting to appear ungrateful to the nameless men who had fucked me so I could have a very special birthday. Though I was disappointed that the last of Phil's friends hadn't also fucked me. I guess he just liked to watch his lover fuck me.

There were a variety of sloppy kisses exchanged between me and the others . Cum was rubbed all over me, mixed with sweat. Then they left the room, Phil threw a towel at me, still blindfolded, and shut the door. I heard him talk to the others, offering them the shower and clean towels as I wiped myself off.

Phil's friends came in one or two at a time to wish me happy birthday again.

But don't know who we are, do you? asked one.

No, sir.

So you could be anywhere, at the Eagle or at party with your daddy, and wonder if one the guys who stops to say hello fucked you tonight?

Yes, sir.

But you won't know, will you?

No. sir.

He left the room laughing.

Sometime later I heard the front door slam on the last of our guests. Phil came in, took off the blindfold and kissed me.

I don't know about you, he said. But I worked up an appetite.

Thank you, Daddy.

I love you, David.

I love you.

Good. Now take a shower while I make us some supper.

I got up on wobbly legs, looked at the waste basket next to the bed filled with used condoms and latex gloves, and wondered how, or if, I'd ever walk again after such an assault.

You know, I said as Phil took off my collar. You don't have to wait for a special occasion if you ever want to do this again.

Hole.

We kissed again, long and deep.

Photos from "Beasts & Beauties: The Erotic Art of Olaf" produced by the Tom of Finland Company. This book and original artwork available through: Tom of Finland, POB 26716, Los Angeles, CA 90026

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International Drummer #197 Classifieds

GLOSSARY

G gay S straight Bi bisexual M male F female Cpl couple W white B black L latino A Asian J Jewish Btm bottom Siv slave yo years old feet / inches # pounds centimeters cm kg kilograms L / L leather / levi masc masculine musc Muscular BB body builder VGL very good looking UC uncut hung big dick NS non-smoker POB post office box ISO in search of SKG seeking SM sado masochism JO masturbation BD bondage/ discipline WS water sports scat shit FF fist fucking VA verbal abuse SS safe sex elec electricity CBT cock / ball torture TT tit torture FR a / p French (suck) active / passive GR a / p Greek (fuck) active / passive corporal punishment M / S master / slave

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"EAGER BOY"

"boy stud-BIG"-at midlife, 6'4", 218#, seeks demanding / intense Master or "Daddy" to please as M / D takes boy to new depths! boy's "true self" has been found. Awaiting skilled , "experienced " hands to continue the journey, boy travels the world. Call (515) 532-3707 before 11pm CST. B8354 LF

15 INCHES ON 2 TOPS

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A BIG LEATHER DADDY NEEDS house boy. Me: 49yo, 6'1", 280# hair bear, into TT, BD, GR / A & FR / P. You: masculine, in-shape, compatible, willing to help take care of daddy, birds & fish. You will, in turn, be taken care of. Smoke, drug & alcohol free. Must relocate to Mil-waukee , WI. 11254 LF

AFFECTIONATE RAUNCH

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ASIA= SPECIAL FORCES

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ASS-EATER DAD SEEKS LTR

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BEEFY SADISTIC SICILIAN

5'9", 210#, 40's, 7" cut, HIV- seeks stocky, chunky slave into heavy VA, whipping, WS, rimming , TT, CBT, humiliation, degradation, booze, smoke, aroma ok. Photo to POB 1141, JHQ Queens, NY 11372. No limits, bearded, balding, hairy, cut, heavy whipping, torture pluses. 9874 IF

BI-WM SUBMITS TO YOU!

Inexperienced, 36yo boy available for use by 25- 45yo top who enjoys SM, domination, control, WS, bondage, discipline, CBTT worship, psychological abuse, assplay, etc. Please send orders to: Steve, POB 50004, St. Louis, MO 63105-5004. 11266 LF=

BLACKMEN AND TOILET SEX

WM, 34yo, 5'7", 160#, good shape with bubble butt! To meet similar blackmen with interests into hot leather, Speedos, briefs, aromas, toys, role play & most freaky scenes, etc! Absolutely no fats or fems! Call (313) 527-2965. 9876 LF

BODYBUILDERS INTO SPANKING

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BOOT DISCIPLINE

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BOOTLICKER NEEDS MASTER

Large, bottom, WM, 6', 285#, 43yo, ISO Master Daddy lover, I am very well trained. I want to spend the rest of my life in service and love. Any age or race, smokers a plus. Must be thin to muscular . Photo / phone to Barton: POB 730386, Ormand Beach, FL 32173-0386. 11252 LF

BOXING GLOVES

GWM, 31yo, 5'10", 170#, seeks a husky, chubby Daddy or BB who craves the look, smell & feel of the gloves for scenes of tough-talk, hours of humping, sniffing, heavy bag workout, safe boxing lessons. I'm a non-fighter into safe fantasy , relationship possible. 20189 LF

BOY NEEDS DISCIPLINE

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BTM GM, 39YO, 190#, VGDLKG, HUNG

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BUILT WM INTO SKEWERING

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CHICAGO HEDONIST

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DAD SKS SUPERIOR HIV+ BOY

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DAD SEEKS MUSCLEBOY

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DALLAS RANCH

WM needs assistance on Dallas ranch. Write to POB 180974, Dallas, TX 75218-0974. 9194 LF

DARK, MUSCULAR TASKMASTER

Hairy Italian BB, 5'9", 43"ch, 28"w, 16"a, 8 1 / 2"x5 1 / 2" cut. Wants full or part time slave for pig & other training. LL, uniforms, WS, BD, FF, CBT, VA, JO, spanking, worship. You: built, nasty, eager to please. You will work for the privilege of serving me & possibly 1 addl stud. 9993

DO YOU DREAM OF BEING

Stripped naked and tortured beyond description solely for the pleasure of an audience? Seeking sophisticated exhibitionist / voyeur SM devotees to participate in scenes of elegant decadence involving all kink. TX, LA, CA, NY. 3659 LF …

DOMINANT COPS

Submissive white male, 40yo, wants Top Cop for arrest, interrogation, confinement done your way. Travel poss., complete discretion, special interests include uniforms, weapons, control, cuffs, etc. This prisoner needs incarceration. Call (412) 421-8252 or write to Box 9892 LF=

CLASSIFIEDS

TO MAKE CONTACT ON THE DRUMMER TOUGH LINE

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ADS WITH BOX NUMBER

1. Compose your response and seal it in an envelope on which you have written the box number on the back flap.

2. Add correct postage. Domestic U.S. rquires 32¢ for the first ounce, 23c for each additional ounce. Canada and Mexico require 40c for the first ounce, 23c for each additional ounce. Overseas requires 50c for the first half-ounce, 45c for the second half-ounce, and 39c for each additional half-ounce. Over-seas vouchers or money cannot be used. Foreign country responses: If U.S. postage is not available, we will provide postage. For 1-5 letters, send an additional $2. For 5-10 letters send an additional $5. Postal rages are subject to change without notice.

Letters not properly prepared will be returned to sender. Inter-national Drummer will forward responses to ads in back issues. However, we cannot guarantee that old addresses will be valid.

3. Put sealed letter(s) and a $2 (per item) forwarding fee (include a note if you are a LF member) and mail to: International Drummer Clas-sifieds P.O. Box 410390 San Francisco, CA 94141.

TOUGH LINE SYMBOL TO

1. Using a touch-tone phone dail 1-800-959-8684. $1.98 per minute will be filled to your credit card. Or, call 1-900-468- 6844. $3 per minute will be billed to your telephone bill.

2. Follow the Tough Line voice instructions, for 1-800 calls, have your credit card number and expiration date ready. Also have ready the four-digit number which appears at the end of the ad you want to contact.

ENEMA EXTREMIST SEEKS BOY

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EXPERIENCED MASTER

Seeks to train and tame athletic studs. Beginners and shy guys welcome. Phone (203)261-6355. 11293

FIELD / HOUSE / SEX SLAVE

ISO strong work animal for perm. position, rural setting. Confinement, beating, sex on demand. Incl. photo & resume of skills and exp. Box 9183-180, 955 Mass. Ave., Cambridge, MA 02139.

FIND TRUE OWNERSHIP

Master creating network for Masters and slaves. Sir, 1202 E Pike St. #947, Seattle, WA 98122.

FLESHMATE FOR MISSION

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WM, 47yo, 6'2", 220#, BRN / HZL, beard / moustache, manly, HIV-. ISO beefy-thighed boy (any age) seriously into SM, BD, who will submit his butt and back for punishment and his emotions to a caring protective Master. Respect & loyalty from you gets monogamy from me…Texas. 20178 LF ==

HANDSOME HUNG MASTER

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HOT EXECUTIVE MASTER DAD seeks boy needing mentor for discipline, nurturing and available as lover / friend / companion, and can handle affection as well as TT, BD, CBT, safe and sane experimentation. Dad is 6'2", 175#, 40s, HIV- and handsome. Are you ready to give it all to get it all? 8333 LF.

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LEATHER SLAVE

Hot bottom, late 40s, 150#, 5'11', handsome, lean, muscular, masculine, seeks top quality leather master for intense scenes-safe only. 5943 IF

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MASTER / DAD ISO SLAVE / SON

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MUSCLESTUD SLAVE

Wanted by sadistic Big Bear. Heavy physical labor - heavy punishment & torture. Muscles a must. Letter, photo, phone #. 20319

PREPPY MASTER SEEKS SLAVEBOY

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REFORM SCHOOL

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ROUGH LEATHER SEX

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