By Straghtjacket
It was a while ago that I responded to an ad in Drummer Magazine. The bondage toy market wasn’t nearly as expansive as it is now and men didn’t talk much about safe words, at least not the guys I hung out with. Well, some did have safewords and that was a distinguishing characteristic between “serious” men and players. I came out to old guard men who taught me the ropes. I was a bottom and essentially a slave to everyone. I had to work my way from being scum to finally earning my leathers.
I was held prisoner by two guys that looked like hairy bearded red necks. They were just as likely to drink a coke in the bars as they were to drink booze. They were the first tattooed men that I had known at the time and they always smelled of cigar smoke.
