This story, which appeared in Issue 15 (March/April 1990) is by the late great bondage artist Dirk Dykstra, aka Lazy Leo, most famous for his three-volume illustrated bondage "novel", The Estate.
SAN DIEGO, CA. I just picked up a copy of a back issue of yours (#10) to fill out my beginning collection of your fine publication, when I ran across your complaint about lack of response from twins. As it happens, I am a twin.
My twin brother and I did indeed share bondage games when we were young. One of them was to tie each other into a chair and then tickle the captive twin's feet until he managed to wriggle free of his bonds. Then, of course, we switched roles.
Unfortunately, this playing stopped in our early teens, as our divergent sexual identities began to emerge. My twin, as it turns out, is one of the most heterosexual men I've ever known. Not homophobic, of course, in fact when we were in college together, if he couldn't get a date, he'd go to the local gay bar and dance with me. But he simply has absolutely no attraction to men, and therefore, none to me.
Oddly enough, though, we still share an interesting aspect of personality: love of bondage. I am a serious bondage top, with a fascination with hoods, gags, and all the rest of the wonderful paraphenalia. There is nothing in the world more beautiful to me than the sight of a handsome man, writhing within the confines of tight, strict bondage.
My twin also loves to see bodies in bondage; he just prefers to do it with women, bless his heart. Our love of this activity has long been a shared fascination, and we to this day still trade bondage publications back and forth through the mail for ideas and inspiration.
So how's that for genetics research: twins who are at opposite ends of the sexual spectrum, but identical in fetish?
My brother has even told me that he's envious of my being gay, because while he has a hard time finding women who are comfortable with the idea of bondage, I've been lucky enough to have acted out just about every sexual fantasy I've ever had in the past 17 years I've been active. Part of my luck, I think, is that I'm 6'4", handsome and dark, and when I dress up in leather, I truly LOOK like the typical Master image!
This looks like it's going to be a long letter. I hope it's worth the reading, since I'd like to share my memories of a very special relationship I had a number of years ago. At the time I was living in San Francisco, during the heyday of the leather scene South of Market. I had moved there from Minneapolis, and rather than being treated as a Midwestern hick, I had in fact been hired as Art Director by Drummer magazine, and had been embraced by the community almost immediately. Unfortunately, although I was like a starving man at a buffet table sexually speaking, I was getting tired of the lone existence, and was thinking seriously about taking on a full-time boy.
I met David at one of the bars. He was wearing a baggy sweatsuit and leaning over a railing. Being an ass man anyway, my eyes went to his butt, where I saw a grey bandana on the right. I struck up a conversation, which was pleasant. He was only 21 years old, and fresh out of the Army. He seemed naive but nice, and he had Jewish good looks in dark, sexy eyes, a dark beard and short, wavy hair. Although he looked like he was probably a little heavyset under the sweatsuit, he seemed pleasant, so I decided to take him home.
He was with a friend, he told me, and couldn't just leave like that, but being the kind of person who doesn't take no for an answer, I pulled a leather collar out of one of my pockets and held it up to him.
"Do you want to come home with me, yes or no?" I demanded. "I'll only ask once."
He looked very flustered, but he thought hard for a minute, said "Yes," and I promptly buckled the collar on and we left. Later on, his abandoned friend and I would become friends, but that's another story.
Anyway, when we got home, I took him into the bedroom and told him to undress. What I saw was quite a surprise. Instead of being overweight, I saw revealed to me one of the most magnificent male physiques I'd ever seen! It turned out that his hobby in the Army had been weightlifting, resulting in broad, heavily-muscled shoulders, large, clearly defined pectorals, large arms and an ass like two bowling balls, all covered in a light fur of dark brown hair. And he craved nothing more than to be trussed up tightly and made to serve my sexual whims. It was like a dream come true.
We were together for three years. During that time I made a variety of custom bondage equipment for him (I do a lot of leatherworking as a hobby), much of which was rather unusual. His favorite fantasy was to be treated like a domestic pet, so I made up a pair of extremely tight leather shorts which locked on with a padlock at the back of the waist. Thin leather straps ran down the front to frame the bulge of his cock and balls, joined between the legs and ran up the back to outline the cheeks of his round, firm ass. The back strap, however, was interrupted by a steel ring which I put in to accommodate his tail.
I had taken a buttplug and made a tail with wire and rabbit fur, and a hole in the seat of the shorts allowed it to stick out, where it swayed invitingly.
He loved to wear the tail and shorts, and was even willing to wear them in public. We even watched one of the Gay Pride Parades with him dressed in nothing more than boots, a studded leather collar, and his shorts and tail. Often, curious passersby would pull on the tail to see what it was attached to. He loved that.
We were incurable showoffs. One evening we went out on the town to the leather bars, and we were a hit. Well, to be precise, I think HE was the hit; I doubt if anyone noticed me at all. David was wearing black engineer boots and his leather shorts with the tail. I'd locked his hands into little leather bags I'd made that had locking straps at the wrists, which made David feel like he had paws instead of hands. Then, I'd bound his arms tightly behind his back by strapping his wrists together and running a leather strap from them up to a wide collar of heavy belt leather. This would have caused enough interest, I think, especially considering David's amazing physique, but in addition, he was laced into a skintight leather hood I'd made out of glove leather. The hood's only opening was for his nostrils. No eyeholes. No mouth opening. Under the hood his eyes had been taped shut for further insulation, and I'd stuffed noise plugs into his ears. Through the thin leather you could easily see the outline of the rubber ball strapped into his mouth.
I had a chain leash attached to the collar, by which I led him from bar to bar. He had to pay close attention to which direction I pulled on the leash to avoid running into walls, and I tugged twice hard on it to warn him of curbs to step off of or onto.
He loved the experience, since his greatest pleasure was to be shown off for the beautiful male animal he was. I enjoyed knowing that everyone in all the bars we entered envied either him, or me, or both of us, because we were doing what so many men fantasize about, and so few actually pursue. I especially liked the sensation of knowing that after everyone had admired my captive, he was going to have to follow me home at the end of my chain, where I would while away the rest of the night pleasuring myself with his body.
He would lick my feet (no sensation so relaxing!), suck my cock, be tied into several ingeniously uncomfortable positions, and when he was going out of his mind with unreleased passion, I would take the cheeks of that perfect ass of his and give him what he really wanted. He often came spontaneously at that, moaning around the red rubber ball gag, which was his favorite, or around the dildo one, which was one of mine.
As time when by, we grew slowly in different directions, and eventually broke up. But about six months ago, he visited me at my apartment in San Diego, and we relived some old fantasies. Now he's found a new boyfriend, and I wish him luck.
Unfortunately, since then, although I've met some very exciting men, and explored some incredible bondage trips, it seems that men who are proud enough of their passions to actually show off are few and far between. Most bondage fans are happy to explore it in private, but when I suggest the possibility of bringing in another bondage bottom, or of going to the local leather bars (such as they are) in bondage, they absolutely, pointblank refuse.
Still, I don't give up easily, and I know that there must be other men out there somewhere who long to be displayed to knowing audiences, tied and gagged and on the end of a leash held by an absolute Master. Perhaps someday I will find them through your Want Ads.
Anyway, thank you for creating just the kind of publication I've always dreamed of: real bondage experiences for real bondage fans!
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