College jock Brody Fox, on the verge of being scouted for the pros, agrees to be disciplined after injuring the Dean’s son in a bar fight. The beefy redhead finds himself in Ty Roderick’s dungeon, tied up like an animal, at the mercy of a man he has never met. “Lucky for you, the Dean is a friend of mine, so I’ve agreed to teach you some self-control,” Ty says, ripping Brody’s shirt open as the beefy redhead hangs from a mouth gag. “A beautiful specimen,” Ty adds as he beats the jock’s bulging pecs, abs and thighs with a riding crop. “I can see the rage in your eyes,” Ty says. “But don’t worry; we’ll beat that out of you.” Brody’s ripped body is soon bright red from the lash.
Every year, the International Mr. Leather event in Chicago brings us moments of inspiration, pride, and joy. This year was no exception. I want to offer my heartfelt congratulations to Rene Hebert, Mr. Palm Springs Leather 2025, who was named International Mr. Leather 2025.
But this post isn’t just a congratulations. It’s also a personal reflection, because Rene’s win means a lot to me in ways that go far beyond a title sash or a victory walk across the stage.
For one thing, Rene is not only a leather man but also a bootblack, and that struck a deep chord with me. I competed as a bootblack at IML in 1998 and 1999 (that’s how old I am!), and I was honored to be first runner-up both years. That time in my life shaped me profoundly. I was encouraged in this endeavor by Philip Williams, an Old Guard leather man I met in New York City who knew a great deal about intimacy, trust, tradition, and power, and who had a profound effect on me. Philip taught me not only about bootblacking, but also about finding erotic energy in humble, grounded acts of service. It was Philip who taught me how to wear leather and who helped me purchase my first pair of chaps, paid for with tips I earned bootblacking! Philip also insisted I donate a large portion of the tips I earned while bootblacking to charity. Fast forward to today, and seeing someone like Rene, who proudly embodies values of service and community, ascend to the IML title, well, it brought everything full circle for me.
But there’s more. Some of you may recognize Rene from his online alter-ego of Buck Harder on TikTok — that’s actually where I first discovered him. His feed is smart, sexy, and full of heart. He shares educational and empowering content about leather, kink, and bootblacking. What struck me most was how out and proud he is, using his platform to be visible, vocal, and real in a world that too often tells us to hide.
I had the pleasure of meeting Rene in person earlier this year at Mid Atlantic Leather. I recognized him from TikTok! He was working the door, collecting tickets, and I remember turning to my friend and saying, “Now that guy is giving some serious leather top energy!” There was just something about him — the confidence, the presence, the quiet power. You could feel it.
And then came IML this May in Chicago, and with it, this wonderful speech from the stage. Watching the clip brought a tear to my eye. (Click HERE to watch.) Rene didn’t just talk about kink or leather or titles, he talked about the importance of being unapologetically ourselves. In a political climate that feels increasingly hostile to queer people, to trans people, to anyone outside the norm, his message landed like a rallying cry.
It reminded me why we have leather titles in the first place: not for ego or glory, but to represent, to serve, to advocate, to stand tall for our communities. Rene is doing just that, and doing it beautifully.
Of course, Rene isn’t the only one who made an impression at IML this year. Congratulations as well to Zephyr Merkur, Mr. Eagle NYC 2025, named First Runner-Up, and to Michael Tikili, Mr. Pittsburgh Leather Fetish 2024, who was honored as Second Runner-Up. It was a strong class, and each of them brought something powerful to the stage. (To learn more about ALL the IML contestants this year, click here.)
Photo: https://x.com/IMLchicago
I’m especially thrilled for Rene—for the bootblack, the self-described nerd, the kinkster, the educator, the man singing showtunes in his car and hitting the gym and taking unapologetic thirst-trap selfies. He’s not only a worthy IML, he’s the kind of titleholder our community needs right now.
So here’s to you, Rene. Thank you for your visibility, your voice, and your leadership. And from one bootblack to another, thank you for making us proud!
By midmorning, Peter’s shirt was soaked through and caked with the red grit of the land. Iron chains clinked and dragged with every labored step — the ankle shackles heavy, the transport belt tight around his waist, locking his collar and wrists in a web of rusted links.
The twins had not spoken much since dawn. They simply watched. One from horseback, the other from the shade of a fencepost, arms crossed, aviators hiding any flicker of expression.
Peter dug.
The hole was pointless — not for a post, not for irrigation — just a pit in the earth, three feet wide, three feet deep, then deeper still. Blisters tore open across his palms. His shoulders screamed. The collar bit deeper into his neck every time he bent forward.
Synopsis: Dean Tucker is a dirty guy who hangs around public restrooms as a hobby. His luck runs out when he taps his toes for officer Tyler Saint. Tyler cuffs him right on the spot and frisks him for any concealed weapon. Dean’s hard cock is the only thing hidden under his clothes. Tyler finds that as a come-on and punishes Dean for his nastiness. After some hard corporal, Tyler fucks Dean suspended inside the toilet stall. At the end of the day, we are not sure if Dean is being punished or he’s having a typical afternoon.
Metalbond readers are familiar with the erotic male BDSM fiction of ty dehner, who has been submitting his short stories to Metalbond for some time. Coming August 1, 2025, ty is bringing together over twenty of these short stories into a book. This special collection will include two never-before-released short stories.
You can pre-order this collection for Amazon Kindle right now! The digital and print version will be released on August 1.
We’re lying on the large blanket in the garden. I feel the sun on my skin. Yes, on my skin! For once, I’m not wearing a rubber suit. My skin is allowed to breathe, at least partially. But my head is once again wrapped in the thickly padded leather hood. The earplugs are still in, as is the gag, and my eyes are still taped shut. But the rubber hood has also been removed. And I’m in the rubber straitjacket. But at least I’m not wearing a suit underneath.
My legs are spread quite wide, almost painfully wide, with a spreader bar. My head is in Bob’s lap. Jad sits or lies a little further down, near my legs. When Bob strokes my head, it creates a noise in the hood, a whooshing or scratching. This drowns out all other sounds. Only when Bob isn’t touching my head at all can I hear a little bit of what’s outside. Not much; I just hear muffled voices. Bob and Jad are talking. Sometimes they laugh. I can’t understand a word, but I get a certain vibe.
