ago when I started both Bondagemaster.com and Bondagezine.com I did so
for a specific reason- to allow men truly into BD/SM Bondage to have a
place to meet....meet in the sense of a place to share ideas and offer
a home to those so inclined. That was 13 years ago.
Thousands have joined the Bondage Brotherhood through Bondagezine and many hundreds have come to our homes in both SF Bay area and now Tucson. Some were the real thing. Some were dabblers. A few were as dedicated as Terry and I. Harold was one such man.
Men past 50 years old sometimes write to ask "how old can your prisoners for a scene be?" I always respond the same way. "I look for spirit, not age." I have had men well into their 70's and even a few in their 80's do remarkably well. In fact, one fellow, Fred, came to me when he was 80 (telling me he was 75) and remained in a straitjacket he had had made for the scene, three days straight. Few can do that. He came back once a year for many years, describing his scenes as "my Zen retreat."
Harold was such a man. He first came to us in 2009. This was his first e/mail:
January 19, 2009
Have been enjoying your website for a long time and finally got up the courage to click on the flame.
Eagerly awaiting your reply.
a fairly recent photo
After the usual exchange of info, he scheduled a scene and arrived late in Jan. It became immediately clear that he was a dedicated Bondoboy. No one could try harder than Harold.
The day before he left for home, he shocked me by saying, "This was one of the greatest experiences of my life, but I'm afraid it's the only time you'll see me. I have cancer and I'm not not going to take any treatments. They would cause me to lose feeling in my hands and feet and probably go deaf." Harold was a musicologist and I could understand his fear of deafness. He lived for music... and bondage. We discussed his decision and I encouraged him to seek some other form of treatment.
Upon his return to Idaho, he wrote:
February 6, 2009
Got home about midnight Wednesday after a drive that was both beautiful--the Vermillion cliffs in AZ and Mt. Wheeler in NV--and freeway hell--Hurricane to Cedar City on I-15 in UT and downtown Twin Falls ID.
Want to tell you again what a wonderful time I had during the visit. Was powerfully aroused during the scenes. I came in the uniform, but there were no stains to wash out. Want to do it again soon while I still can. Next time would fly and rent a car.
Attached is a photo of my iron bondage collection. Terry may find it interesting. The heavy leg irons definitely go over boots. The silver shackles have setscrew closure; have worn them for days with additional chains connecting here and there. The bean cobb leg irons and handcuffs are a little rusty, have been much loved. The collars are too small for me now, the largest being a size 16; they each have only one attachment. If you want them, these will all be yours.
Thank you again for everything.
Shortly I received another e/mail asking for another scene:
February 9, 2009
Propose to fly down on Friday; it will take all day since must change planes, so will plan on flying to Tucson on March 27 and flying back to Boise on March 30. Since one can't bring "interesting" things on the plane, will plan on sending you a UPS package beforehand.
A few days later when I inquired about his doctor's appointment, he responded:
February 14, 2009
Indeed it went as well as possible. He assured me things would go very gently with me for a long time.
Have bought the plane ticket for the three days, and as soon as the printed itinerary arrives in the mail will send you a copy by email.
March 24, 2009
Am on a countdown to arrive in Tucson orbit about 7PM this Friday, March 27. Southwest Airways flight 1005 has a 70% on time rating, but it will take at least an hour to sign out my rental car and drive to Oro Valley, so about 8:30 or 9PM is a good ETA. Will call from the airport when I arrive and again when I drive off. Will be travelling under my legal name Paul Shoemaker.
Have reviewed the profile questionnaire and see nothing to change.
As before have NOT been scripting the weekend in my imagination and have no preconceptions about what will happen, other than the obvious thought that as we get to know and trust each other better the scenes may grow in intensity and duration. With a little thinking in advance on my part I really should be able to go two full hours without a bathroom break, and/or, if a scene is interrupted for a break it could continue where it left off.
You asked me about leather; just wearing leather clothes is OK but the smell and feel of leather restraints and hoods is a strong turn-on, from many hours of happy association.
Hope you received the allen hex screw driver I sent and hope it works OK with the shackles.
We had a great time with Harold, again and a few days after his return, he wrote about it and scheduled another scene:
April 9, 2009
I can think of little else but being your prisoner, and Slave Master T's. I know I have lived my whole life wanting to experience this type of total control from another and only got brief spurts of it before.
As you know, even though the doctors are reassuring, I have no idea how long I have. I want to live every minute that I can in bondage and with you and Slave Master Terry. The last scene made me realize that I'm really just living to have more scenes with you.
Have purchased my ticket for the May 15-19 visit with the following itinerary:
Delta Airlines, connecting in Salt Lake City
15 MAY 09
19 MAY 09
Attached is a PDF copy of the Gorbachev book; am reading it a second time, finding it very interesting. This may be what was promised to you.
Very much looking forward to seeing you both again.
May 13, 2009
Have reviewed the submitted profile and on the basis of experience there would like to make the following adjustments:
from 2 to 8
Will have both of my cell phones with me and operating. If no answer on 208-249-8384, please call 208-230-1807. Of course they must both be shut of when in the air.
Looking eagerly forward to seeing you both. This will probably be the last time I will be able to visit you.
Pet Rex for me.
We had another scene and it went very well. Harold and I would, upon his return, discuss politics, music and the arts in great detail... and our mutual membership in Mensa... about which we both had the same conclusion. We traded DVDs and CDs of movies and music. And Herald started his epic work for BZ, A Slave's Journey. Upon return he wrote:
May 20, 2009
Master Jack, and Terry
Had a marvelous time visiting you, thank you so much.
Arrived last night on time after a beautiful pink cloud sunset flight from Salt Lake City. Had clouds all the way from Phoenix to Salt Lake and the rainstorm descent into SLC was the roughest I've ever experienced.
At once upon clearing security in Tucson I lost my boarding pass, but somebody found it and turned it in, so apart from the embarrassment it was no problem.
My dog was so glad to see me he jumped up in my lap; it was more like wrestling a bear than petting a dog--since he's shedding, wrestling a bear in a snowstorm. Today Rod and I sat out in the garden in in 60 degree heat watching the humming birds at the feeders. He's going to make two lemon pies with his lemon.
Have three David Mamet films on order from the library.
"Against stupidity the Gods Themselves contend in vain" is not from any ancient source, it's Schiller, from Joan of Arc.
Hope to see you soon,
As we made plans for his August visit, he wrote:
June 12, 2009
Master Jack and Terry,
starts six weeks of chemotherapy. Have been coughing lately and the
chest x-ray is not good so the doctor was able to talk me into it.
No promises, of course, but it could make all the difference.
And a few days later:
June 23, 2009
Master Jack and Terry,
Felt great at your place in May. Less than 20 days later was in my doctor's office short of breath, coughing heavily, with alarming test results. Today, after 9 days of treatment (19 still to go) my cough is gone, I feel fine, my old self, and am busy planning my trip to see you in September. Amazing what doctors can do these days. The treatment they're using has only been available since January.
This time am thinking I will want to stay longer, take one day to visit my straight friend in Phoenix, and accept Master Jack's offer to show me some of the local sights such as Kitt Peak. I would be delighted to stay the whole time with you and enjoy your company, but I don't want to be in the way.
Knowing what I know now, if I had met you merely two years ago I would have requested a three day scene in the cellblock, naked and chained, handcuffed to myself and/or the bunk or the walls, ceiling, or floor, reconnected with the geometry changed every two to four hours in accordance with your very fertile imaginations. How close can we get to this ideal now, in light of my unfortunate recent fragilities? Maybe pretty close.
I notice in the photos on the website that you don't seem to do much with bondage collars, leather or iron. I've sent you the steel collar I used to wear, it being too small for me now. I'm making a new steel collar (you can buy them for $90, but since I have all the basic materials I thought it would be more fun to make my own) that fits me, a little unorthodox but basically solid. No way could I bring it on an airplane, perhaps I could mail it to you in advance if I decide to fly after all.
Nothing wrong with my imagination.
Pet Rex for me.
Very much enjoying Philip Glass' "Concerto Project 1 & 2." Wll bring them along. Also a new Lorraine Hunt-Lieberson recital.
We exchanged many e/mails about bondage, music, literature, politics and composition. Then this came:
voice completely deserted me, so the phone is switched off since
all I can do is whisper. This morning can croak a little, but have
learned I must take it easy for a while.
I had written to Terry directly so now hoping for September 19/20 et environs. Will know nothing more until last week in July when my doctor sees the X-rays.
Soon, he was better:
July 27, 2009
to hear Rex is improving.
My CT scan today looked good and my doctor said he doesn't want to see me for six weeks. After my specifically asking him about my going to Tucson in late September to visit friends and "play rough" (he didn't ask for any details, but considering my tattoos and body piercings he probably has a pretty good idea what I mean.) he said "Go for it."
So I am considering a Wednesday to Wednesday trip, arriving on the evening of September 16 and leaving the morning of September 23. That will give us six full days to work around any things that might come up. If I get under foot I can take a day to keep my promise to my straight friend in Phoenix and go visit him and/or take the drive up to Kitt Peak. If these dates are OK with you guys I will send buy my ticket, assuming that flight schedules are accommodating. It's always possible I will decide to drive down instead which would mean a completely open departure date.
Of course, healthwise eventually I will be right back where I was six weeks ago and have to go through the treatment again. This cycle may repeat a few times, but eventually the drug will lose its effectiveness and there will be nothing further that can be done. It is possible that I will be able to visit again in October, maybe even November; it's also possible that September will be the last time we can get together, so I want to give it everything I've got.
Pet Rex for me. Pet Terry for me.
A brief note in August showed he was recovering well:
August 5, 2009
Great Terry has taken time off for my scene! Have been thinking a lot about where you guys have been taking me and am ready to hang on for the ride!
Then he sent me this:
Reading your beautifully written and presented memoir has on reflection moved me to want to tell you some more about my life and my early S&M experiences.
I had always assumed my bondage and S&M fantasies (in my youth such things were never talked about outside mental hospitals) were just caused by frustration and would go away if I was in a good ďnormalĒ sexual situation. My first serious relationship was with Jim Kemble, a fellow I Met in 1970 at Venice Gay Lib. We were both on the rebound, him from a disastrous marriage to a woman and me from a long series of hopeless crushes on guys who werenít at all interested in me or who were otherwise inaccessible. Jim and I lived together for nearly 7 years and had many happy times although there were constant problems mostly from my insensitivity, inexperience, a lack of self knowledge, but also from his poor health (He died in 1986 at the age of 40 probably from diabetes and chronic hepatitis). But the fantasies didnít go away. Jimís and my relationship became an open one and I was a charter subscriber to Drummer magazine, answering ads trying unsuccessfully to meet people but unable to handle the bar scene. It was only when Jim and I finally separated that I really began seriously going out. Somehow I met Jim Ward and was a charter member of his ďT&PĒ (Tattooing and Piercing) group, although obviously it was almost entirely piercing and very little tattooing. It was at one of their meetings that I got my septum piercing, and at one of their meetings I met Bill Hanko.
As an S&M bottom, I like what I have been trained to like. My first S&M experience was with Bill, being spread-eagled on his bed in leather restraints while I was tortured for two hours, then sucked off. It was the best sex I had ever had and it changed my life. You mention how easily I fell into the alternation of social times and play scenes with you, but that again is how I was trained. I would go to Billís house, heíd give me a beer, weíd talk for a while, then heíd take my hand and lead me into the bedroom and tie me up and off weíd go. But Bill was at that time the bottom in another relationship he wanted to save, so our meetings continued only on a casual and secretive basis.
Through Bill I met Earl. I would go to Earlís house and we would have a few beers and talk about music and politics; one day he played for me the Schumann Symphonic Etudes. Then at some point he would grab me, throw me down on the rug, come down on top of me, and slap me around for two hours, using just his hands, his magnificently trained pianistís hands. At some point in this I must have taken off at least some of my clothes. Then I would drive home and jerk off and he would go into his bedroom and jerk off; no actual sex, just violence. Earl was probably in his late 60ís then and had been inducted into S&M as a young man in the authentic chateau scene in France by his then long dead master, Jack. And Earl also trained me to separate the scene from actually getting off, which is, again, how weíre doing it. Charge your batteries at one time and place, and the lightning strikes at another time and place. I would imagine some people you see would have a problem with doing it that way.
I saw Earl twice a week for a month or two, then I met Daemon (Clifford Lyman Sawyer II) who was to become my second ďhusband.Ē Daemon was a leather god, the sex with him was great, and he promised me violence, but it turned out he was really married to alcohol and I came in a poor third. He walked out of my life exactly one year to the day after he walked into it. We occasionally talked on the phone but I only saw him socially a couple of times after that. I think we really loved each other, but the Beatles were wrong, it isnít all you need.
Earl, of course, still acted the bottom role in scenes with some other men. He told me the story of one his tops who had a total slave, kept naked and shackled 24/7. Every six months the shackles were removed and he was left alone with his clothes in an unlocked room and the option to get dressed and leave. After half an hour, the door was locked and the chains went back on again; over five years steady he had chosen to stay. Earl asked if I wanted to meet this man, and I said yes, but, alas, it never happened. Years later I found out that Earl was very deeply hurt by my cutting him off and running off with Daemon, that Earl had begun to consider offering me a contract. In many ways Daemon was the worst mistake I ever made.
Bill and I had both become available at the same time, so I moved in with him. We had some fun times and went together to some Fifteen meetings in San Francisco where you may have seen us. Then Bill got totally involved with Gay Menís Chorus of Los Angeles, spending virtually all his time and energy in rehearsals, organization meetings, and group politics. I sang in some fine performances with them but left the group when they abandoned classical music and went all pop. I was involved in the founding of two LA S&M organizations, SoMandros and LeatherMasters and was the first person to resign from both of them. Bill and I lived and bickered together like an old married couple and after four and a half years on New Yearís Day 1985 he died in my arms of lung cancer.
I had already met tattoo artist Bruce Lee of Tucson through Jim Goodwine of Phoenix (maybe you know him?) and Bruce and I began to ramp up our relationship. It was 8 months after Bill died (two months after my father died) that I made a serious tattoo commitment to Bruce and we began on my full sleeves. Bruce would fly out and stay with me and work on my tattoos then spend all night out at the bars. I founded Illustrated Men tattoo club and Bruce met and tattooed lots of gay guys in LA. I paid him lots of money and let him stay free at my place in Burbank. Sometimes I would drive or fly to Tucson or Phoenix and he would work on me there (I was in Tucson in 1986 for the NASA Uranus flyby). Within three years my arms, back, stomach, and chest and about 30%of my legs were covered. I was finished up by Eric Thomas Payne (ďDr. PayneĒ) of Boise. Eric was very generous to me but is now so famous I canít get an appointment nor can I afford him.
When Bruce was tattooing my dick the pain was worse than I could endure. I couldnít hold still and no amount of codeine seemed to be enough. Bruce asked me, ďDo you really want this?Ē and I said yes, so he and Paul Sehm chained me tightly on the table and blindfolded me and Bruce went ahead with the tattooing and just let me scream and squirm. Straining against the chains helped me endure the pain. Then when the tattooing was over, Bruce and Paul went into the bedroom and had sex leaving me chained up. When tattooing the scrotum the skin needs to be held tightly stretched. A friend had dropped in and performed this task for me; since I was blindfolded I didnít know who it was until he told me some time later.
My tattoo fetish probably comes from seeing shirtless muscular tattooed construction workers and pictures of shirtless tattooed GIís in Life magazine. Tattoos are a form of permanent bondage, like a welded on shackle. But the shackle will come off in an hour with a good hacksaw whereas the tattoo is much more durable. Tattoo rape is a very serious situation; piercing rape is much less so, since even after years when the ring is removed, the hole will heal up. You may have seen guys with chains tattooed around their wrists and other parts of their bodies; donít we know what they really want! At any rate tattoos were accessible to me; I got them when I could because I could and of course have never regretted it for an instant. At over-the-counter prices a body suit like mine is a $50,000 investment although I paid much, much less than that because I was lucky to find good artists who were just building their reputations and used me as their ďportfolioĒ to get full paying work from others.
Bruce is one of the most psychic people Iíve ever known. He would be in Phoenix, I in Burbank, and I would know exactly what he was thinking at the moment. If he wanted me to call him, I would, and he would think there was nothing odd about that. Our relationship was incredibly close although he would scoff at any suggestion that we were ever lovers. Bruce just liked sex and had it with whoever was handy. He was very attractive and no one would ever say no to him. Incredibly he never got sick and when he finally did contract AIDS in San Francisco in 1992 it was from a tattoo needle stick accident not from sex. Unfortunately he never bargained on the energy flowing the other way. He discovered to his horror that all the tattoo work he had put on me karmically bound him to me as well as me to him and he fled from me first into drugs and then into distance trying to break the bond that he had forged. At one time he refused to visit Portland because he had word I would be in the city the same weekend. One day on the street he chanced upon a mutual acquaintance and took off in a dead run. I have not had a word from him in many years but word on the street is that when he takes his medication heís still as gorgeous as ever and when heís off his medicine and drugged out he looks like hell. Iím told he spends his time tattooing in Portland, saving his money, then goes to San Francisco and blows it all in the bars and on drugs.
In early 1988, again through Jim Goodwine, I met Bob Vassar and Rod Simpson of Boise, Idaho (They had just moved to Boise from Eagle, Idaho, and some people knew them as ďThe Captains from EagleĒ). Iíve remarked on how similar was the setup they had to yours. They had four jail cells in the attic, a full size working rack in the living room which was the sanctuary of an old church, and tons of uniforms, chains, and leather. They would also take guys of any age or build. People flew in from all over the country for scenes.
At about this time Bruce Lee had moved to San Francisco and met Jack Fritscher. Jack had written two pieces for Drummer which powerfully affected me. One was about The Brig, which he described as a sort of communal dungeon for local tops to bring slaves for heavy, long term bondage scenes. He quoted a master as saying: ďSee that equipment, boy? Thatís where youíre going to be for the next few hoursÖor maybe the next few daysÖor maybe the next few weeks.Ē In another piece he interviewed a bondage master who described his preferred schedule for a bondage scene: For eight hours a day, the subject would be in total mummification, unable to move at all. The following eight hours would be in somewhat relaxed bondage, where some squirming and shifting would be possible (presumably this is the sleep time). The remaining eight hours would be of relative freedom in manacles and leg irons, performing tasks. This routine would be kept every day for a full two weeks. I had no idea whether I could handle the two week scene, but I sure wanted to try. Rod told me they knew this man, (you probably did, too. Or was it you? Most people thought the whole thing was just a fantasy of Jackís) and I had a secret fantasy that they would one day introduce me to him. (They never did.)
At any rate, I met Jack and did two bondage scenes with him at his studio, one of which he videotaped. It was enjoyable, a good scene, but looked awful to the camera; he eventually released it for sale and I was embarrassed.
It turned out Bob and Rod wanted somebody full time and a previous arrangement had not worked out, so I went to visit them for the first time in September of 1988, by December I had signed a contract, and in April of 1989 retired from work and moved into their house. This was going to be my ideal slave relationship and for more than two years it worked out extremely well. Of course the time I spent in gear was pretty small as I had shopping, house work and yard work to do and errands to run. And we had so many things in common we became friends and spent so much of our time traveling and listening to music that we had trouble finding time for sex scenes.
They had Jack Fritscher come to visit them in Idaho and do some scenes, but he and I didnít hit it off this time. He eventually said some nasty things about me and Bob and Rod asked him to leave their house at once, ending all communication. People tell me Jack affect lots of people that way.
Everything came crashing down in late 1991 when Bob was diagnosed with lung cancer and by the Spring of 1992 he was bankrupted by medical bills, out of work, and convalescing from a pneumonectomy. Then it was discovered that Bobís remaining lung was seriously damaged from embolisms and he was given less than a year to live. I had just sold my house in California and my money made them dependent on me until Bob could qualify for Medicare and Social Security retirement.
By this time we were friends and helped each other as needed. Of course the dogsóRazzy (who had been Billís dog), then Mel, later Munchówere our children. In 1997 Bob was very caring and supporting when I was diagnosed with prostate cancer and required radical surgery, a very serious operation. Three years later we fled high downtown taxes, smog, and noise, and moved out to the country. Where the last nine years have gone I canít seem to grasp. Bob died four years ago having amazed his doctors. Toward the end he became bitter and remote, seeming to blame me for everything. He and Rod had tricked me into signing away my inheritance rights on our property (I didnít find this out until Bobís will was probated) so for several years Rod and I were not getting along, but there was no place I could go. There are many kinds of bondage. Rod and I are now making the best of the situation and may actually be friends again. Rod has been very generous in driving me to my medical treatments when Iíve felt ill.
Thereís no point in saying anything more about my recent illnesses, but the truth is I am happier now and have more to live for than at any time in the last 15 years, and I owe so much of that to your friendship.
Stage 1 is that of stoic endurance. The captive is restrained, but heís a tough guy and wonít let them see him sweat. He can put up with anything they do to him. Since throughout history most bondees have been involuntary, this is the most common bondage experience overall. It usually lasts only a short time but some tough guys have kept it going for decades. Today army recruits are tied up by their sergeants, trained in this endurance so they will be better able to resist interrogation if captured. This stage is generally followed by:
Stage 2, the animal panic, the struggle to get loose. The tough guy cracks up, gets hysterical. Bondees have fought against their bonds until they collapse from fatigue, or die from loss of blood, oróget loose. Animals chew off their own feet to get out of traps. When fatigue sets in, we generally move on to:
Stage 3, calm acceptance. The bondee accepts the bonds or walls as a fact of life, to be endured as no more inconveniencing than tight clothes or a mild headache. In prisons and nations with institutional slavery, this is the most common bondage experience, a necessary situation for stability. The bondee may still be alert to a chance to escape, may indeed be planning it all the time, but thereís no panic, no denial, and no fear. There may be a pleasant oceanic experience; voluntary bondees seek this. Finally we come to:
Stage 4, dependence. The cell door is open but the prisoner wonít leave; the bondee fights and cries when they come to cut off his chains, begging them not to. It is common for released prisoners to commit a crime at once and turn themselves in so as to be sent back to prison as they donít know any other way to live.
Somewhat to my surprise in our time together Iíve found that all of the first three stages of experience can follow each other in any order rather fleetingly in any bondage scene. My goal is to have an authentic stage four experience, and I now believe this is possible without spending ten years in shackles.
My shackles fetish probably derives from 1940ís adventure movies and it remains an unfulfilled and probably unfulfillable yearning. One of the problems with shackles is that theyíre so comfortable you can forget you have them on; it could easily take years and years to reach a stage 4 experience in shackles. Until I met you and Terry the thing I didnít like about handcuffs was that they hurt. But what I have learned from Terry is that the thing I like about handcuffs is that they hurt; you never forget for a second you have them on. He has trained me to be a handcuff fetishist and now I way prefer handcuffs to shackles. Part of it is his knowing exactly how to put them on; he is an artist, but where would he have learned this except from you?
When I completed your application I was asked about my jerkoff fantasy. The one I gave you was right for that time. But now no matter what situation I fantasize, as soon as I fantasize that my hands are handcuffed behind me I am mostly there and can finish myself off quickly. It has become my prime fantasy as well as a reality I have experienced. Or, one could say handcuffs behind my back is now an 11 while all the other 10ís are still 10ís.
And I mustnít forget those teen-age adventure stories I read where the hero was kidnapped and tied to a chair for long periods. Fortunately your bondage chair has shown me some good times and I look forward to more of the same. Also there were some Westerns and Middle Eastern adventures featuring naked desert stakeouts that probably set the stage for my earliest S&M experience spread-eagled on a bed. A marathon naked stakeout in the Arizona sun is probably unwise except when the sun is well past the yardarm on a relatively cool day, and if someone is willing to spray my helpless, white, naked, decorated, flesh head to foot with sunblock. Ants, cholla, candlewax, knotted cords, bayonets, belts, paddles, sticks and stones, soldering irons, used motor oil, piss, darts, and coyote scat are, of course, a piacere, but may I please, Sir, express a preference for no scorpions, tarantulas, or tasers?
If I were your slave when I balked at the canvas hood you would have seen to it that I wore that hood every day for longer and longer periods until I was wearing it for a week at a time and begging you for more. But we donít have a lifetime to get to know each other, so, sensibly, you just moved on to something else. But it is my position to absorb your angers and aggressions as you may wish. Donít be afraid to hurt me; if I require punishment, go right ahead with it.
I notice that with the majority of web dungeon and video sites, although the bottoms may wear hoods and mitts, they are otherwise naked. This is what Iím used to in my experience and training. Your site is unusual in that many if not most of the men are covered every square inch of their bodies in cloth, leather, or rubber, starting with heavy boots and mitts, the whole head enclosed. They are generally catheterized; sensibly, since youíre not going to spend an hour getting a guy in gear only to let him right out again to use the toilet. You imply more than once that some of these guys were made to shit in their pants, so they were really in full gear for 24 hours or more. You mention that some of these guys are very experienced so there must be other tops who go this route as well. On other occasions you imply that you made a man like something he didnít think he was going to like, got him to take more of something that he thought he could.
(One dungeon master shows photos of mummifying a man completely in liquid rubber. I understand this could be dangerous, even fatal, but it seems he only left it on long enough for the rubber to set and then peeled it off.)
This total coverage is something Iíve never experienced, although on two occasions IĎve worn a tight leather head mask with no eye or mouth holes for more than four hours. But I guess if one is into rubber gear he most likely already owns his own custom fitted gear and takes it with him everywhere he goes. My investigation of Texas catheters suggests that it would have to be set on me with adhesive or at least tape, the smallest one they make (25mm) almost too big for me. (My post surgical anatomy may pose enough challenges that it might be wise to practice with the catheter in advance of actual need.)
That first day in your dungeon I couldnít hold my pee for even two hours. This was partly because the previous two days Iíd been drinking diet Mountain Dew non-stop, and had a painful experience the day before in the Phoenix freeway forced to hold my water until I was in severe kidney pain. These days, partly as a result of that experience, Iím more careful about my caffeine intake and can go as long as anybody between leaks. Itís been a year since my knee surgery, and I can actually put my weight on my knees now for short periods. Unfortunately, the right knee absolutely at all times has to be bent, at least ever-so-slightly. It isnít just that it hurts and Iím chicken, itís that the cartilage bumper that men normally have isnít there any more. If the knee is bent even slightly beyond straight the bones grind against each other and this could mean I might be lame for several days. This shouldnít be a big problem; we can do anything on the bondage chair, anything on the bondage table with my knees bent, for instance either on my belly in a hog tie position, or with just a spacer of some kind under the knees before being strapped down. (For example, take two rolls of cheap paper towels with the plastic wrapper still on, tape them together end to end to make a long cylinder and lay it across the table under my knees; it could be wrapped in a black plastic trashbag, a towel, or a black pillowcase.)
Iím not so flexible as I once was, but I imagine I could get into the small cage about as gracefully is most men in their forties. When standing unsupported for more than 20 minutes I tend to lose my balance, but this is mostly only a problem at cocktail parties; if Iím attached to something or suspended from something or can lean on something, I can be standing as long as most people. Most of the rest of me is in pretty good shape; my bones are strong as steel and Iíve never broken one. My heart is strong as an oxís, I have no circulation problems although if Iím careless I can get a cramp as easily as anybody. Part of being a good bondage bottom is to be able to feel a problem coming on and work it out and I like to think Iím at least as good at this as most. Iím not pukey so a little more of something than Iím ready for is not going to make a mess.
The problem with the straitjacket the last time was entirely my fault. On the bondage table you had me scoot down, and I did and that jammed the jacket firmly against my adams apple. You asked if everything was OK, and I stupidly said yes, figuring I would just scoot up and relieve the pressure. Surprise! You had me locked down and I wasnít scooting anywhere. I tried to tough it out and bailed only when the pain became severe; my neck was bruised for three days afterwards. It was all my fault, Iíve learned my lesson, I promise I will do better next time.
I have no experience with that kind of overnight bondage that is bearable for long periods, but uncomfortable enough to prevent a person from sleeping. Unfortunately itís been 40 years since I could miss a nightís sleep and keep on functioning the whole next day, but if you wanted to do something like that to me, do it the last night before I leave; I can always sleep on the plane.
I was fortunate to be initiated into flogging and whipping scenes by tops who were true sensual artists of the lash, belt, paddle, and, in Earlís case, the flat of the hand. Unfortunately my last two whipping scenes were with relativly unskilled men who were heavy handed and blunt, leaving me with very unpleasant memories. Also it was more fun to be suspended by my wrists when I weighed 50 pounds less. Pain is most effective at potentiating bondage when it is right at the edge of bearability, by giving you a reason to really want to get loose, but you canítówhich is one reason why the very first scene we did together, with the clothespins on the tits, was for me very satisfactory. It kept me frequently, almost involuntarily tugging at the ropes reminding me over and over that they were there. Handcuffs are somewhat less effective at thisóat first they donít hurt at all, then, as you squirm, they eventually come to hurt too much and the scene can become a marathon ordeal. The gradual buildup of endorphins somewhat mitigates this. Probably eventually the handcuff pain will reach a plateau and saturate; it would then be possible with meditation to go on indefinitely. Probably I just need practice and work on meditation techniques.
Iíve had no experience with rubber gear. Iíve had almost no experience with rope bondage, and you have offered electro-stimulation or a sort Iíve never experienced before. Although Iíve been hung from my wrists in leather cuffs during flogging scenes, Iíve never been suspended upside down. Iíve never experienced mummification, or recreational catheterization (my medical experience with an implanted catheter was a misery best not recalled). Iíve never been inside the small cage. I think it is your policy to err on the light side and so to leave a man wanting to come back for more, rather than push against his limits and risk a bad trip. But I canít keep coming back for more. Our time for playing together is nearly over. I am more afraid of missing out on something than I am of being pushed too far. In particular I want to break through what seems to be a two hour ceiling on our playtime. I hope to try for a three hour minimum scene with you this time, and, hopefully, if that works, longer times.
Among the biggest bores in the world is the bottom who asks for a heavy scene but when you try to give it to him he backs out. Iím not that kind of man, which is why I have tried to understand and explain precisely where we have had problems and how to work around them.
Had been writing on this essay for about four weeks, editing it into shape and this morning got your e-mail that Terry will be off work for four full days during my visit. This shows you both are taking me seriously and has filled me with grateful and excited anticipation. Have decided to send you the essay essentially unchanged anyway.
Just last night while waiting to fall asleep it suddenly struck me that all my bondage experience to date has hovered closely around the stage2 /stage3 transition. I say I want a stage 4 experience, but Iíve never been centered in stage 3, which would require long time total immobility, a level of acceptance and submission that Iíve never experienced.
I am standing on that peak in Darien suddenly aware that there is a whole ocean, the existence of which I had hardly realized. It is this that your army friend comes to from Iraq for; the military gives him all the stage1/stage2 he needs but only there with you does he achieve stage 3. Only then can the way be prepared for stage 4.
My first two visits were a good introduction, last time we started to get into something serious, hopefully in September we will make some real progress. The paper towel trick should make it possible for us to accomplish what you tried to do for me last time, straitjacket plus heavy strapdown and we can go on from there.
His note before arrival:
September 16, 2009
Boarding passes are printed (Delta-Skywest from Salt Lake City Flight DL 4429) and arrival time is still 3:49 PM, probably terminal B again, but will call you as soon as I arrive to confirm. Will have my music and e-books and can comfortably wait as long as is convenient for you.
Have lost 18 pounds and my beard is just starting to grow back in, but am otherwise unchanged.
And this upon his return from his scene:
September 27, 2009
Master Jack and Terry,
Told the bikers when they approached that I was your property and they fled in terror at the mention of your name(s). It would save so much discussion if you just branded me on the forehead.
Arrived home to find the bathroom scale badly damaged. Can't possibly have gained ten pounds in only 7 days...? Writhing under the lash is great exercise for losing weight, so much better than jogging.
Tickets for return trip have been reserved but not processed. When they are, probably Monday, will send you full itinerary. Essentially there is no problem with the holiday, the flights are the same ones as before but since by then the rest of the world will have shifted off Daylight Savings Time, times will be one hour later Arizona time. That is, expect to arrive Thursday at around ten to 5.
The photos from the cellblock scene have been burned into a disk for you, ready to be mailed probably Monday. Some of them came out dark, so have included some attempts at bringing out shadow detail, just to show that it can be done. Noticed that the jewelcase for your Trovatore was broken, so will send you the photo disk in a new double jewelcase. Hopefully this one will stand up better.
Sent Terry an e-mail, and am awaiting acknowledgment before sending him some more astrological information and some photos he had expressed interest in.
Spent yesterday re-installing the operating system YET AGAIN in my Windows XP laptop. That's the last straw, will be buying a Mac laptop soon. Partly because a friend can give me some great software for it.
Murray Perahia's Bach Partitas arrived while I was away and have enjoyed them a lot. His piano sound is clearer and more expressive than Glenn Gould's and his musical intelligence is actually deeper. Also got his Bach Triple Concerto on surround sound SACD. The extra definition is necessary for the concertos with piano because the piano and the solo instruments are in the same register and the sounds would run together. Have not yet had time to look up the Symphonie Fantastique recording.
Shortly he wrote:
September 28, 2009
Here is my Thursday flight data:
DELTA 4633 SPCL CLASS
OPERATED BY-SKYWEST AIRLINES
Delta has reduced the size of permitted carry-on luggage (and raised the fare), so I will have to bring less with me.
Eagerly looking forward to seeing you both again,
He followed quickly with:
October 1, 2009
Master Jack and Terry,
It is I should be thanking you, and thanking and thanking. Both of you have inquired after my health a little more earnestly than usual in the last few days. Perhaps this is my imagination, but let me assure that I am in better health than a month ago.
There simply are no words to express adequately my gratitude for the good time I had with you. I asked for a rough scene, and that's what you gave me. Yes, some of the scabs still haven't come off yet, all the feeling hasn't come back yet in my right thumb, but you didn't wear me out, didn't do any damage. Instead I feel tremendously energized and whole. Maybe I'm even a little giddy, a little silly, I feel so good. I would be other than human if I didn't want more, didn't ask for more. Don't be afraid of damaging me, parts of me are still pretty tough. I'm ready to do it again, ready to go on from where we left off, ready to handle whatever you're willing to throw at me.
My second husband always said that coming out into leather was more important to him than coming out gay. Now I better understand what he meant. Coming out into real bondage has been a life altering experience. Several times I've spoken about a deep, hurtful hunger; it's not so deep now. It doesn't hurt, now, it just feels really good.
Sorry, have gotten carried away. Will try to calm down between now and November.
Soon, another visit:
November 4, 2009
Boarding passes are printed and Tucson flight number and time are confirmed:
DELTA 4633 SPCL CLASS
OPERATED BY-SKYWEST AIRLINES
You see that I did make return arrangements. Yes, I would like to spend the rest of whatever time I have in your cell, but I know that's not practical.
Looking forward to seeing you both Thursday,
And upon his return:
November 13, 2009
Master Jack and Terry,
Thanks for another wonderful visit! Terry said to me, "come back soon," and will be writing about that Monday Afternoon.
The trip home was boring but for one thing: Arrived in SLC, it was raining, and there was a wheelchair at the gate but no one to push it, so I started to sit down and in walked one of the ground crew, tall, gorgeous, his warm reflectorized uniform not disguising his tight, muscular body. "There's no one to push me," I said. "I'd be happy to take you wherever you need to go," he said. (I'm not making this up, really) He helped me into the least broken of the chairs and off we went. Naturally I kept up the conversation. Ground crewmen must make good salaries as it developed that he always avoids Heathrow when he flies through London, preferring Gatwick instead. He turned me over to the boarding agents at gate D9, making sure I was in good hands, and when I offered him a tip he politely declined it and wished me a good trip with a bright, warm smile, and off he went back to work.
The WalMart parking lot, being about the temperature of a meat locker, was uninhabited, so shopping proceeded without incident. Was home by 10:30. Doggie was very glad to see me.
The library does not have Querelle, so I asked Ken in Portland if he has access to it. A friend of his is a Netflix member.
We continued to discuss all our usual subjects (I only include a few e/mails of those) including music, in this case his translation of Strauss's Vier Letzte Lieder, since I had told him of my once translating Schubert's Die Winterreisse from MŁller's poems to my erotic ones (also in German. It worked. I tied up the tenor after the concert.)
November 17, 2009
is my version of the text. It's not really directly from the German
as my German is all but non-existent, but is an editing of other translations
with reference to a dictionary as needed. My purpose was to arrive
at a readable English version that did no violence to the original.
It's obviously not intended as a singing translation:
It was, perhaps, prescient.
In Dec. came his magnum opus, which is not biographical, but weaves his BD/SM experiences into his story. He wrote:
December 8, 2009
You invite people to write for Bondagezine, so have attached the first two chapters of a novella. It's probably too "literary" for your use, but thought you might like it. Chapters 3 and 4 will get more into bondage per se, and I don't have any clear idea for chapters 5 and beyond, but I'm sure they'll be there when I get there.
This is very personal, and it's my ultimate turnon fantasy., combined. But I'm a writer, I'm used to rejection slips, so if you don't publish it, no big deal. I just want to help.
Hope you enjoy it.
Of course, I published it.
Timing for Harold to arrive during the holidays couldn't work so he planned for as soon as possible afterwards:
January 13, 2010
My advance itinerary says I'll arrive at TUS at about 5PM Saturday. Give me 10 minutes to get off the plane and 10 minutes to get to the street, 5: 30 would be a likely time. Will call you as soon as I'm off the plane and can get a cell signal--The airport has surprisingly poor cell phone reception.
Will send an e-mail confirming all this after I print out my boarding passes on Friday; sometimes they change flight times a few minutes at the last moment. And, of course, will call during the day if there's any change while in transit, such as a delay leaving SLC. Snow in Chicago can make all planes in the west late.
Have been enjoying Bondagezine, catching up on old issues. It is amazing the variety of people's fantasies. Mr. Mike had that guy's dick tied up so tight it was bright blue; how long could it be like that before you have to amputate? Could like Dr. Mad Max's sense of humor if only he wasn't so heavily into rubber and stale piss. A scene four hour's travel north of Ottawa!? That's cooooold country.
Upon return home he wrote (>>>>> is me)
January 28, 2010
Master Jack and Terry,
Yes, I hate leaving. I feel that I "belong" with you.
>>>>>There was ... tension in the air as you left Tuesday. I knew you feared the worst.
I arrived prepared to make a little speech some time during my stay telling you this would probably be the last time we would meet for a scene, but I couldn't bring myself to say it, and you took the words out of my mouth with something you said, so I never had to.
>>>>>>No, I'm not you're mother.
No, something much more precious--good friends. Don't ever apologize for that.
Things are still up in the air, so will not be talking about a visit until at least March.
Still here, still yours,
A few days later he wrote:
February 11, 2010
I seem to be coming up for air about now. I really had a marvelous time staying with you. I enjoyed our scenes, and the one with Terry, very much, and hope I did not inadvertently give any indication to the contrary. We covered new ground in our time together; two hour SJ scenes plus whippings on four successive days is a small taste of what serious slave training would be like. Every time Terry and I get together he opens up a little more to me and I come to see him in a slightly different light. I hope there will be opportunities soon for us all to move further together.
I remember our beautiful interlude munching on good cheese and looking out at the beautiful croquet green and gardens. The plane ride home was 7-1/2 hours being uncomfortable and stressed. Since then it has been difficult in many ways, but at least I am now back in my old routine, such as it is.
The real excitement of the last few days is that I'm now on coumadin. Virtually all of my body's processes are now subject to some chemical control, some pill or other. There are many things which tend to thicken blood and it's easier to use a thinner than to try to fix everything else. Judging from the good results, much of my discomfort recently has been due to poor circulation or blood clots in various places, so I am feeling notably better and my mood is much improved.
Have been enjoying Bondagezine very much. My story looks good on the big screen and I haven't seen anything major to change. The other two stories are neat also. I like your Territorial Prison story even if the character is nobody I can easily identify with. But he's getting the full treatment. Hex is more like my story in being somewhat literary, even mystical. After such a long buildup, the seduction scene is awfully quick. The main character fairly jumps into the rubber gear, which just happens to fit him perfectly (and he does have a nice shape to fit) heedless of possible consequences. It's not exactly my scene, but I could certainly dig it if it was offered to me. I wonder if the pictures came first or later?
Posing photographs to illustrate my story would be a fun project, but rather expensive since I've an expansive idea of sets and locale. Unlikely ever to happen.
My mother's family can claim their Episcopal Church membership clear back to Adam and Eve, and my father's family are all Methodists when they were anything at all. At some time they must have made shoes, but I don't suppose all shoemakers are or were Jewish. So, no I don't think I'm Jewish in any significant way, but I have a theory about your un-favorite composer; I think he was Jewish (and gay) to the end.
I want for Israel what Moishe Dayan wanted, "two peoples, two nations, peacefully side by side." Whether this can ever actually happen has little to do with what I do or don't want.
Tomorrow I'll likely drive into Boise on many errands saved up. It's still gloomy every day here; maybe we'll have some sun on the 19th.
February 17, 2010
Yesterday Dr. Pulver was encouraging. He says my lungs sound clear; if the XRay next Tuesday is clear, then we will stop the chemotherapy. Am stabilized on 6.25 mg of coumadin per day.
It turns out I'm slightly anemic, so last night I took an iron pill and had beef stew for dinner. Slept well, woke without any cough this morning. Well, hardly any.
If all goes well maybe we can start talking about a visit some time in early April.
Actually, no, I didn't know you were raised Methodist. I was raised Theosophist.
The mystery Jewish composer is G. F. Handel. It was first pointed out to me by someone I met years ago. Allegedly his family name is actually Haendler and his family were shopkeepers in Hamburg. The question is why did he call his greatest work Messiah and not Christ? Why were all his great oratorios on Old Testament subjects? He said it was because the Jews in London had money and came to his concerts, but does he mean that the Christians didn't?
When King George asked him why he didn't show any interest in women, Handel famously replied: "Your Majesty, I have no time for anything but music." And his lifetime, live-in, male companion who, he famously said, knew more about counterpoint than Gluck.
February 18, 2010
Glad you liked the review. I call 'em as I see 'em.
Terry has pointed out that he has Good Friday off, so if I arrived on April 1, he and I could spend a three day weekend together. If you could informally hold this weekend for me, I will give you a confirmation as soon as possible, perhaps in a few weeks.
Glad you like the Tovey. I first became interested in him from his writings in the 11th edition of the Encyclopedia Britannica, then discovered he had finished Bach's final "unfinished" fugue. Since then Peter Shore of Sweden and I have explored virtually all his music from scores, and Peter is now producing recordings. I can play for you virtually everything from my collection, but dare not make copies of these as they are advance edits. The commercial recordings should be out in a year or so on Guild label.
Tovey had an unfortunate ability to make enemies, and this can be fatal in the music business. Hopefully when his music is widely available opinions will change.
We talked often on the phone and what joy there was in his voice after he sent this e/mail and got my acceptance response. He wrote:
March 9, 2010
My doctor a very supportive today, the news was good, and she said go ahead and take April off, so my visit is ON. Here is the schedule we discussed some time ago:
"Arrive Thursday, April 1. Terry arrests me Thursday PM beginning three days in the cellblock.
Monday, April 5. Terry releases me about noon, then I ride with you to deliver him to work. We get home about 2, and begin an SJ scene in the dungeon. After dinner, two hours in shackles in the cellblock.
Tuesday through Thursday, April 6 through 8. Scenes in the dungeon in the afternoons, after dinner two hours in shackles in the cellblock.
Beginning either Thursday or Friday evening, Terry joins me in the cellblock...?
Saturday and Sunday, April 10 and 11. In the cellblock.
Monday, April 12. Released from the cellblock at noon.
Tuesday, April 13, fly home.
That's twelve full days and two travel days. Four plus days in the dungeon, five plus days in the cellblock, very little "time off" for either of us."
I will buy my tickets tomorrow, so if anything needs to be changed, please let me know soon.
About to arrive, he wrote:
March 31, 2010
Last time you asked me to give you a number (80%?) as to how close to normal I felt. I couldn't do it because parts of me were excellent whereas some parts weren't. I was strong and in good spirits, a little depressed over my state of health, coughing more than I liked, low on stamina (as you quickly picked up during the whipping scenes). But I enjoyed everything about my stay, and don't feel I missed anything for being a little under the weather.
This time my mind and mood will be brighter, I'm coughing much less, but I will be weaker and lower on stamina. I will need to sit more, especially during the first few days, so don't be surprised if when we go shopping, sometimes, especially during the first few days, I ask to wait in the car. I will probably stay home when you guys take Rex to the park. I will gradually feel better and stronger as time progresses. There should be no need for either of you to pamper me or hold back on anything.
See you tomorrow at 4PM.
But it was not to be as planned. He was so weak... after lasting 2 days in the cell, he finally said, "I'm kidding myself. I'm in too much pain." We ended the scene, but proceeded with life. He and I took several trips, including to the top of Kitt Peak where there are more telescopes than anyplace else in the world (he had originally studied astronomy in college.) But he couldn't walk so I moved him around in a wheelchair. We went to a concert, to a play, had a dinner party for him and heated the pool everyday for him to relax in the water. I told him to change his return reservation so he could stay another week. He did so, immediately. I think we all knew he was near the end.... but we still hoped.
His last e/mail arrived:
April 29, 2010
Hope all is well with you and Terry.
Later Today I'll try to send you some of the food pictures via your website.
Doctor's news yesterday was not good but I'm feeling stronger today and everything feels possible. Have made progress with Bondage Novel 2, now all I have to do is write it out. You'll be the first to read the completed draft.
Most of the time, he wouldn't answer his phone... he was sleeping. We talked twice in May. The first time he said the doctor had given him two weeks... to live. Two weeks to the day, I called and he answered.
"Well, you're still here," I said.
With a chuckle, "Yes, at the doctor's office. I'll try to call you later." He never did. They took him to a hospice.
His story was in 13 chapters. I kept hesitating to put up the last chapter, fearing somehow it would bring down the curtain. I posted it on Friday, June 4th. I got a call from Harold's friend, Rod, on Tuesday, June 8th. Harold had passed peacefully away that morning.
It is a great sadness for Terry and me. We shall miss our dear friend Herold, our slave. No one ever tried harder than Harold to be a GREAT Bondoboy... and he was.