10 Black Guys in Bondage: The X-Rated Version

There are lots of Asian guys into BDSM, but very few black guys, and those few are mostly tops.

 When you're subject to constant discrimination, being followed around stores so you don't steal anything, having people clutch their purses when they pass you on the street, being stopped and searched for the crime of walking while black, going to prison -- one in eight black men in America are incarcerated at some point during their life -- you're unlikely to find being dominated particularly erotic.

I've met only two or three black BDSM bottoms in real life, and even photographs are rare: after years of collecting, I have only about 100 (not counting scenes from movies). Here are my top 10 favorites:

1. My favorite position, spreadeagle on the bed.  I love the look of angry defiance as he tests the leather straps.

2. My second-favorite position, on a chair with his hands tied behind his back.

3. An interesting background picture, glistening muscles.

4.  I don't know why the hands-above-the-head position is so popular with black BDSM bottoms.  This looks like a prison fantasy (notice the tattoos and the bars in the background),but what makes it is the super-sized schlong.

5.  :Sali," probably African.  That looks like the prow of a ship behind him.


More after the break

Scott Baio's Hookup with His Cousin and the "Fantasy Island" Guy

Of all the gay rumors I heard about Scott Baio, the most outrageous was the alleged three-way he had with his cousin Jimmy Baio and older actor Ricardo Montalban.

I heard several different versions from several guys, but it all boils down to three basic plots:









Story 1:

It was 1977, and 17 year old Scott has just finished Blansky's Beauties, while 15 year old Jimmy had just finished with The Bad News Bears in Breaking Training.

Scott's father, a canny stage dad who knew his way around strategic casting couches, arranged an introduction to the dapper Mexican-born Ricardo Montalban, age 56, then filming the first episodes of the Saturday-night old-person's favorite Fantasy Island (1977-84).

Montalban had seen Jimmy in The Bad News Bears, and asked that he be included to "sweeten" the deal.

They met at a hotel in Hollywood.  My source went into detail about the sexual activity, but I won't repeat it here, since Scott and Jimmy were both underage.

Story #2

It was 1980, and Scott, age 20, was playing Fonzie's cousin Chachi on Happy Days, while Jimmy, age 18, was a bigger star, playing Billy Tate on Soap.  

59-year old Montalban, who was filming Fantasy Island at ABC's Burbank studio, was a fan of Soap, and sometimes came to watch rehearsals.  He and Jimmy, who was gay but closeted, soon began a romantic relationship.

When Scott heard about Montalban's proficiency in bed and enormous 10" penis, he begged Jimmy to let him watch.  Montalban agreed.

They met at Scott's house in Studio City.  After playing pool and drinking some wine coolers, they went into the bedroom, where Scott watched as Montalban and Jimmy kissed and fondled each other, then got undressed.

As Jimmy was going down on Montalban, he motioned for Scott to join them.  Scott eagerly got undressed.  His 6" was already aroused.

Montalban told them to kiss and rub their erections together, while he topped Scott.  But Scott couldn't take his penis, so Montalban changed his mind: he topped Jimmy while Scott was going down on him.

Then he ordered Scott to bring himself to orgasm while they watched.

The hookup was never repeated, and Jimmy and Montalban broke up a short time later.

Story #3:

It was 1984, and Scott, age 24, was starring in Charles in Charge, while Jimmy, age 22, was scrounging around for tv guest spots after the cancellation of Soap.

Jimmy often went to the cruising area in Griffith Park, and one day he saw the 63-year old Montalban there.  They had met several times, but neither knew the other was gay.

They went back to Montalban's house on Oriole Street in the Hollywood Hills and hooked up.

 Jimmy was an anal bottom, but this was during the AIDS crisis, so he confined himself to going down on Montalban's enormous penis, kissing, and interfemoral.

Montalban suggested BDSM activity in addition to vanilla sex.  Jimmy agreed, as long as his cousin Scott, who was well known as a BDSM bottom, came along.

They met at Montalban's house, which had a fully equipped BDSM dungeon.

Montalban forced them to strip and fondle each other.  Then he chained them together for light whipping and clothespins on their nipples and bellies.

Then Jimmy had to go down on Montalban while Scott remained fully aroused without touching himself.  If Scott lost his arousal, he would get spanked.

He got spanked.

Jimmy didn't like the BDSM scene, so it was never repeated.  He and Montalban broke up shortly thereafter.

Which Story is True?

Theoretically, all three: Scott has been the subject of many gay rumors, and Jimmy, who now lives in New York City and has never married, is probably gay.  Ricardo Montalban was a devout Catholic, married to his wife Georgina for over 60 years, with four children and no gay rumors that I can find.  But that doesn't mean he wasn't interested in occasional same-sex activity.

#1:  I find it very unlikely that the suave, sophisticated Montalban saw The Bad News Bears in Breaking Training.  And although I've heard about the casting-couch-pimping father before, Montalban seems an unlikely candidate: he had been in many minor movies and tv shows, but was not particularly famous, and was in no position to advance Scott's career.

#3: Scott has been the subject of BDSM rumors, and the details of Montalban's residence and penis size are accurate.  But Montalban was living with his wife and his youngest son Vic at the time.  It is unlikely that he had a BDSM dungeon in his basement.

#2: Sounds most realistic.  By 1980, Montalban knew Scott and Jimmy from their guest spot on a May 13, 1979 episode of Fantasy Island (Jimmy guest starred by himself on an October 31, 1981 episode).  A studio meeting makes more sense than a cruising area. If any of them is true (and they may all be pure fabrications), this one is.

See also: The Top 10 Rumors about Scott Baio; Scott Baio and the Hard Master.

10 Reasons Chubs Rule

For the last thirty years, I've spent about two hours a day at the gym.  I've dated, hooked up with, and socialized with countless bodybuilders and gym rats.  But I have always been attracted to chubby guys, too.  In some ways, I like them better.

Here are 10 reasons chubby guys rule:

1, For every gym rat with 3% body fat, there are 20 guys with bellies.  A lot more guys to choose from.











2. And a lot more variety.  Muscular physiques, though undeniably attractive, all look about the same.  Visceral fat (around the organs) comes in infinite variety: belly only, with or without muscle, around the glutes, around the pecs, around the biceps, with varying size and hardness.

3.  And a lot less competition.  Chubby guys have their admirers, of course, quite a lot of them, but not nearly as many as gym rats.  You might be the only guy at the bar who is interested in him.

4. Success is practically guaranteed.  When chubby guys are rejected, it's not "Sorry, you're not my type," but a very hostile "You're gross, disgusting!  You shouldn't be allowed in the bar!"  As a result, they are very sensitive to rejection, and unlikely to say "no."

5. You can relax on the date.   Sometimes you don't want to compete with your date to see who can order the healthiest meal.  Many chubby guys are very health conscious, but most won't raise a judgmental eyebrow if you order the bacon-cheeseburger and fries.

More after the break

Tad's Wild Night with the Rifleman and His Son

Readers have been asking for a story about a Chuck Connors - Johnny Crawford romance ever since I started this blog in 2015.

I don't know why.  Most Baby Boomers have never seen The Rifleman (1958-63), about single dad Lucas McCain (Chuck Connors) raising his son Mark (Johnny Crawford) in the Old West.  It was before our time during its first run, and who wanted to watch the reruns?  Westerns were square; the 1960s was all about blasting off in rocket ships and zapping aliens with ray guns.

Plus Johnny Crawford was 12 years old when The Rifleman began, so any sexual activity would be the predatory grooming of a pedophile.  During the last season, he was 16-17 years old, still off limits for any consensual romance.  But maybe later, when they were both adults.

Here are the 2 hookup stories I heard about them in West Hollywood.  The first comes from a guest at one of Will the Bondage Boy's parties in 1999, a young BDSM bottom.  I don't remember his name, so I'll call him Tad.  I added a few details.

Hollywood, Spring 1986

I was a Cute Young Thing, 19 years old, still living with my parents, working at a video store in Eagle Rock.  I was tall and skinny, kind of homely, with a big nose and acne scars, a small dick, no muscles, no selling point except my willingness to bottom, which as you know was unusual in the 1980s.

So every weekend I hung out on Hustler Corner, Highland and Santa Monica. Not hustling, though I wouldn't say no to a new shirt.  But the closeted married men who came out after their kids were tucked into bed didn't care that I was poor, homely, small, or didn't belong to a gym. All they cared about was getting off.

 I met a lot of closeted actors on Hustler Corner, cruising themselves or sending an assistant out to make the deal for them.

Well, one night this blue Camero pulls up, and a very handsome guy sticks his head out -- in his 30s, black curly hair, dark skin -- and asks if I like older men.  He's not really older, but I say "Sure" and get into the car with him.

We drive to the parking lot on Selma.  "Do you mind if I inspect the merchandise first?" he asks.

"Be my guest."  I pull out my dick, but he asks me to raise up so he can feel my butt.  "Nice and firm!  Do you do Greek passive?"

"As long as you use a condom."

"Great -- these days Greek passive is hard to find.  Is gang banging ok?"

"The more, the merrier."

"Bondage?"

I wasn' t ready to admit my BDSM interest yet, so I said "As long as there's no pain."

"Another plus.  And you're cute.  I think you'll do great."

"Thanks," I said, wondering if I was going to a trick or an audition.

"It's a bit of a drive, so my boss would like you to spend the night, and if things work out, the weekend.  It pay $200.  Is that ok?"

"As long as I'm back for work by noon Sunday."

He gets onto the 405 and drives us north, over the mountains and then farther through the San Joaquin Valley.  I don't mind -- there are snacks and beer in the car, and Mike has a lot of funny stories.  Originally from Albuquerque, he came to L.A. ten years ago to become an actor, but ended up a pool cleaner and lawn maintenance guy for some of the wealthy residents of Bel Air.  For the past three years, he has been a personal assistant for Chuck Connors.

Chuck Connors!  I can barely hide my excitement!  You may think I'm too young to remember The Rifleman, but when I was growing up, they were playing the reruns every day after school. I had lots of fantasies about Lucas McCain and especially his teenage son Mark.

After about two hours, we come to a gated community up in the mountains near Bakerfield, and drive into what looks like a ranch called Medicine Hat Oak.  The main house is all done like a Wild West ranch, too, with wood paneling and deer and moose heads and guns on the walls, and that old-fashioned Colonial furniture.

Mike lets me use the bathroom, then takes me into a guest room.  More Wild West motif.

"You won't meet Mr. Connors until tomorrow," he says.  "Do you need anything?"

"A shower," I tell him.  "And maybe you could join me?"  We start kissing.  Soon our clothes are on the floor.  Mike has a great physique, hard smooth chest, big cock.  He goes down on me, teasing until I'm ready to explode, then turns me onto my stomach, puts on a condom, and pushes into me.  I've been screwed before, but the big head hits just the right spot, and I cum immediately.

Mike keeps on thrusting inside me for a long time.  I get aroused again, and start beating off.  Finally he finishes, takes the condom off, and turns me over for a long kiss.  Then he says "If you need anything, I'm just on the other side of the kitchen.  Breakfast is at 8:00."  He grabs his clothes and leaves.

In the morning I finally meet Chuck Connors.  He's in his sixties, white-haired and craggy, but still hot.  Mike and two other guys are there, too.  In their fifties, balding. I don't recognize them.

Breakfast conversation is mostly about horses.  I want to talk about The Rifleman, and mention my childhood crush on Mark McCain.

"Johnny will be up later," Connors says abruptly, cutting me off.  Apparently he doesn't want to talk about The Rifleman...or about me being gay.  "For the party.  I think Hank, too."

Is Hank a boyfriend?  I wonder.  A lover?  But the conversation turns to Hank' problem with a contract of some sort, and I don't think it's a good idea to ask.

After breakfast Mike drives me into Tehachapi to get some new underwear and a swimsuit.  We spend the day working out, swimming -- some kissing in the pool, but no sex -- and riding horses.  Connors joins us for tennis.  More guys arrive during the day, until by the time the cook sets out dinner by the pool, there are around 30.  All men, mostly in their fifties and sixties.  Like a gay party, except there's no touching, and no one is talking about sex.

Mike introduces me as "a friend from L.A."

I'm disappointed that there aren't more celebrities.  I recognize Charlton Heston from The Planet of the Apes and Gary Lockwood from 2001: A Space Odyssey, but that's all.  No Johnny Crawford.

I ask Connors where he is.

"I guess he'll be up later.  He had a thing to do in L.A. first."

Around 7:00 pm, Mike says "It's time for you to earn that $200."  He takes me back to the guest room, strips me out of my clothes, and has me lie down on my back, crosswise on the bed.  He ties my arms and legs together and blindfolds me.

I have never been tied up before. The loss of control is wildly exciting.  I'm already aroused.

"You'll be here for three hours.  If you need a bathroom or stretching break, just tell the guy you're with to come and fetch me.  They all know they have to use a condom, and no pain.  Any questions?"

For the next three hours, hands caress my body.  My nipples and balls are licked.  I am kissed.  I count four cocks in my butt, five in my mouth.  I lose count of the mouths on my cock.  I cum three times.

It's the best night of my life.

The only problem is, I have no idea which of the guys I have been with.  Chuck Connors?  Johnny Crawford?  Charlton Heston?

Afterwards Mike unties me, and I shower and go to bed.

He wakes me up in the morning before dawn, gives me $200, and drives me back to West Hollywood.  We stop for breakfast at a McDonald's on the way.

"You had quite a night," he says.  "Are you sore?"

"Not really.  It was great. By the way, did Johnny Crawford ever show up?"

"Yes, he was at the party."

"Did he screw me?"

"Sorry, that's classified information.  Mr. Connors likes to protect his guests' privacy."

"Did Mr. Connors screw me?"

He smiles.  "I can't tell you that.  All I can tell you is that one of the guys was me.  Butt and mouth both.  And I'd like to do it again sometime, except just the two of us, not a crowd."

"Sure.  As long as there's some bondage involved."

To this day I don't know if I had sex with Chuck Connors or Johnny Crawford, or both, or neither.

My First Indian Sausage Sighting and BDSM Scene

Dowagiac, Michigan, March, 1971

Dad always claimed that he was half Indian, from the Potawatomi tribe of southern Michigan.   But he didn't mean by blood: when his big sister Nora married a Potawatomi man (my Uncle Henry), he was sort of adopted by the family.  When I was a kid, we occasionally drove to Dowagiac, Michigan, about four hours from Rock Island, to visit Grandma Rani, a small, brown, wrinkled woman who always said "You've grown as big as a beanstalk!"

One day in fifth grade, Dad told me "We're going out to Michigan for your Grandma Rani's 90th birthday.  All of your uncles and aunts and cousins are throwing her a big party."

Cousins?  Potawatomi boys my own age?

I remembered the naked Indian boy that Bill and I saw at the Pow Wow last summer -- huge beneath the belt.

And Cousin Joe, half Indian -- huge.

Suddenly I was very interested in meeting my Indian cousins.

When we visited before, Grandma Rani lived in a farmhouse in the wild birch woods, but this time she was living with her daughter and her family in a rather rundown gray house on a side street in Dowagiac

There were a lot of people.  Some I knew, like my Aunt Nora and Cousin Joe.  Most I didn't.  We ate cake or pie (not both), leafed through photo albums, and helped the now wheelchair-bound Grandma Rani unwrap presents.

Indian parties turned out to be like every other grownup party, except that you got a piece of cake with a lit candle on it, and an old guy gave a long speech about how "Rani has honored our people," accompanied by a slow, steady drum.

A very long speech.  I asked Mom if I could go out and play.

I wasn't the only one.  There were a dozen kids in the back yard.  I walked up to a couple of guys about my age and one older, almost a teenager.  They had black hair and dark eyes and smooth coppery skin. My Indian cousins were cute!  But were they big?

"Do you like Daniel Boone?" I asked, to break the ice. Then I kicked myself -- I only thought of it because the theme song said "Daniel Boone was a big man."  But it was a Western, about   wild, savage Indians!  Of course they wouldn't watch that!

"It's pretty cool," the older one said.  "I dig his coonskin cap.  I'd like to make one myself, if I can hunt down a coon."

I relaxed.  One faux pas over. Soon the guys -- Javon (13), his brother Rodney (10), and their cousin Mike (9) were showing me around.  Downtown was only a three block walk away -- it had an ice cream store and a newsstand where you could get comic books.

I was full of cake from the party, and I had just spent my allowance on comic books at Schneider's on Monday, but I pretended enthusiasm.  I really wanted my Indian cousins to like me.

I squirmed when I saw Turok, Son of Stone among the comics -- it was about two Indians with feathered headdresses and loincloths trapped in a prehistoric land.  But my Indian cousins didn't seem to notice.

When we finished looking at (but not buying) comic books, Javon said "Come on, let's play in Mill Pond Park"

  My heart sank.  I didn't like playing outside, and I didn't really know how.  "Um...what do you like to play?" I asked.  "Hide and seek?  King of the hill?  Cowboys and..no..."

Javon grinned.  "Those are baby games.  Let's play Green Berets.  It will get us ready for the army when we grow up."

The game was basically Cowboys and Indians combined with Hide and Seek.  set in Vietnam.  The Viet Cong (our enemy) capture an American G.I., tie him up, and torture him for information.  Two or more Green Berets (an elite military group) have to find him, subdue the Viet Cong and rescue him.


We ran back to the house, got some rope and toy guns, and set to work.

As the oldest, Javan got the pivotal role, the G.I.  I volunteered to be the Viet Cong officer.

While Rodney and Mike waited, I put a t-shirt on Javon's head as a hood and led him into the woods.  We turned a few times to make it more difficult to find us.  Then I tied his hands behind a tree. He was still wearing a hood.

"So you won't talk!" I exclaimed.

"Not so loud!" Javon said  "They'll find us too soon."

"We'll make you talk."  I whispered.  I carefully unbuttoned his shirt and ran my hand over his smooth, hard chest.  "You won't be able to stand this torture for long."


"You won't get anything out of me!"

"Oh, no?  Not even if we hit you on the wiener?"  I undid his belt, unbuttoned his pants, and slid them down.  I heard a sharp intake of breath.

A little disappointing -- much smaller than my Cousin Joe's.  But I didn't get to see many wieners, let alone touch them.

"We'll see how brave you are when we're hitting you on the wiener!"

I reached out and grabbed it: soft and warm to the touch, with a rubbery foreskin.  Then Rodney and Mike came war-whooping out of the bushes.   Rodney pushed me away with a fake karate move, and Mike shot me with his toy gun.  I collapsed onto the ground, "dead."

In the next iteration, Rodney was the G.I., and Mike the Viet Cong officer.  Then we had to pack up and go home.

I saw my Indian cousins only once after that, at Grandma Rani's funeral.  We haven't stayed in contact.  I wonder if Javon still likes getting tied up.  And by who.

See also:The First Boy I Tied Up; An All-Nighter at the New York Bondage Club; and Cruising in the Navajo Nation.

Dream Boys in Pain

BDSM scenes involve exerting/relinquishing power in four ways. 
1. Bondage
2. Humiliation
3. Pain
4. Sex

Some scenes offer a mixture of elements.  Some emphasize one or two.

Master Kevin and and his 24/7 slave Jared preferred scenes that emphasized pain.  The other elements of the scene were of minimal importance, and often omitted altogether.

Even when they weren't in a scene, Jared would deliberately get "cocky," disobey or talk back, inviting "punishment," seeing how much he could take.

But all of the BDSM porn they saw emphasized sex, with the pain minimal or not there at all.  One day Master Kevin and Jared got the idea that other people might enjoy seeing BDSM scenes that emphasized pain instead of sex, and Dream Boy Bondage (dreamboybondage.com) was born.

The stories are minimal: a prisoner of war is interrogated; a convicted criminal chooses a sentence of pain instead of incarceration; a guy borrows money from the wrong loan shark; two Mormon missionaries knock on the wrong door.

Whatever brought them to the dungeon, the scene varies only a little: they are stripped, whipped, punched, flogged.  They are hung from a cross.  They are bound spreadeagle for cbt, electroshock, and hot wax.  Then they are "forced" to masturbate.

There is rarely any other sex.  There is rarely any plot development or resolution to the stories.  The point is seeing the Dream Boys struggling in their bondage while the top works on them.

Master Kevin is mostly absent; we sometimes hear his voice barking orders from offstage, or see a chubby hand groping the restrained bottoms.  Jared is the top, working with few words and little emotion.  To him it's just a job, a chore that his master ordered, like mowing the lawn or washing the dishes.

Each session is 15-20 minutes long, with about six sessions per scenario.  No distillation of "best moments": what you see is what happened, in real time.

Which, frankly, becomes a little boring; who wants to watch a guy hanging from a cross for 15 minutes?  I always fast-forward to the "good parts," where something is happening.










The bottoms are rarely muscular or well-hung, but they are stunningly attractive.  They are "pretty boys," used to being desired for their face rather than their physique or their cock.

Some the Dream Boys are experienced bottoms who can take anything, but most are not into BDSM at all, and many are straight, just in it for the money.  They are feeling the whip or the violet wand for the first time: that's real shock on their faces.







Dream Boy Bondage is not for everyone, not even for every BDSM fan.  But for the beauty of the models and the intensity of the scene, it has no equals.

In Search of Muscle Cops

Here are some nude photos of police officers.

Or least, men wearing police uniforms.  I doubt that most of them actually work as police officers.

There are morals clauses in most police contracts, so posting a nude selfie could ruin your career. 

Besides, most police officers aren't particularly muscular, and I'm assuming that they have the same range in cock size as everyone else.

Well, maybe they're a little bigger, due to the self-selection process whereby small guys shy away from jobs involving locker rooms.

Hung but not muscular.

More after the break

21 Surprising Facts about Lane

I've been trying to make a coherent picture out of the lives and loves of my ex-boyfriends, first Alan, then Fred, and now Lane, my partner for about ten years and friend for about thirty, But I can't fit Lane into a coherent picture; he's full of contradictions and inconsistencies. Every time you think you have him figured out, there's a new surprise.

Here are the 21 most surprising facts about him.  At least they surprised me:

1.  He's a third generation West Hollywood boy.  His grandparents opened a hardware store there in 1938.  His parents owned a clothing store and two apartment buildings there. His childhood home was Crescent Heights, near Romaine, around the corner from the French Quarter -- his childhood hangout!

2. He is particularly interested in uncut penises.  At Temple Beth El in Hollywood, Gentiles were the enemy, spreading horrible lies about Jews, constantly trying to force them to convert to Christianity.  The forbidden naturally becomes attractive, and the uncut penis, the emblem of goyishe depravity, the most attractive of all.

3. He was a hippie.  At Hollywood High School in the early 1970s, he had long hair, listened to The Grateful Dead, smoked pot, and participated in a sit-in to protest the lack of attention to African-Americans in the curriculum.   But he was also a good Jewish boy, keeping kosher, studying the Torah, attending Shabbat services.  And he was gay, which, he thought, didn't fit into either the hippie or the Jewish worlds.  High school was a time of anxiety and depression.

4. He kissed a girl.  In 1973, just after he graduated from high school, Lane followed his friend Ari, who he had a crush on, to Israel.  But they rarely saw each other and never hooked up, and Lane hated the isolated, heterosexist farm life of the kibbutz.  He became depressed and took to drinking heavily.  One night he cruised what he thought was a young man in a bar in Tel Aviv.  Only after they started making out did he realize that it was a girl!

Lane got on the next plane back to West Hollywood.

See: Lane and the Cute Young Thing of Tel Aviv.






5. He has read every science fiction novel ever published.  He spent his 20s and 30s at the Change of Hobbit, a science fiction bookstore in Westwood, becoming a close friend of owner Sherry Gottlieb and hobnobbing with the visiting writers.  His first real boyfriend was a science fiction writer who won a Hugo Award in 1977.

6. He invites Jane Fonda to Passover every year.  In 1976, when Tom Hayden was running for the U.S. senate, his parents were big campaign contributors, and became friends with his wife Jane Fonda.  They began inviting her to Passover every year (although she rarely came).  After his mother died, Lane continued the tradition.

See: Will the Bondage Boy Hooks Up with Peter Fonda

7. He made out with his brother.  When Lane's father, Aaron, died in 1984, to his surprise, a half-brother showed up for the funeral, a child of an earlier marriage. "Oh, we meant to tell you," Rosa said, "But it was never the right time."

The half-brother was ten years older than Lane, living in Chicago, married with children, but gay, on the "downlow."  He asked Lane to give him a tour of L.A.'s gay life, and one thing led to another...

See: Lane has a three-way with his boyfriend and his brother.

8.  His father became accepting after he died.  Although he lived in West Hollywood for most of his life and had two gay sons, Aaron was rather homophobic, complaining whenever a gay person came into his store, renting to gay couples only after Lane lectured him on tolerance. "I don't care what you do," he said, "But just don't bring any of your 'friends' around here."

A couple of weeks after Aaron died, Lane was in bed in a boyfriend's apartment, when he  felt a strange presence.  He looked over, and his father was sitting in a chair, in a bathrobe, smiling at him, approving.

9. He has had only one BDSM experience.  Lane is into bigger, muscular guys with hairy chests and facial hair, so he started hanging out in leather bars, where a lot of guys are into BDSM.  One day in 1986 he agreed to being the bottom in a scene, but the gag tasted awful, and the blindfold irritated his eyes, so he used his "safe word," ended the scene, and never tried again (although when we were together, he sometimes helped me top a guy).





10. He had a trophy boy.  Although it's mostly bodybuilders, gym rats, and bears, occasionally a smooth, slim twink caught his eye.  In April 1987, Lane began dating Danny, a 19-year old student at L.A. City College, immensely hot but content to do nothing all day but watch Duck Tales, have lunch with his friends, and go shopping.  Finally, after a major shopping spree emptied their joint checking account in May 1989, Lane gave him the boot.  Two days later, he went to the Zone, hoping for a hookup.  Instead he met Boomer.

See: Lane and the Trophy Boy 

11.  He has a tattoo.  Jews are forbidden to get tattoos and piercings, and besides, I find tattoos an instant turnoff.  Yet one day shortly after we moved in together, he decided to get a tattoo on his right arm.  I think he got it just to spite me.

12. He hooked up with Batman, Robin, and the Joker.   In March 1991, Lane had his biggest Celebrity Hookup, with Cesar Romero, who played the Joker on the old Batman tv series.  When he told the story, he added Batman and Robin to the mix.

See: Lane's Hookup with Batman, Robin, and the Joker



13. He rarely leaves Southern California.  For nearly 16 years, from 1974 to 1990, he didn't leave at all, and even today he only leaves for brief visits to other gay neighborhoods. In 1995 I talked him into a cross-country trip to Rock Island to visit my parents, and that was enough.  "Why should I go anywhere?" he always says.  "I'm already here."

14. He envied suburban "straight" life.  Why would someone who never leaves the gay world envy the lives of suburban straights, with houses, lawns, garden clubs, paperboys, and casseroles in the oven?  But Lane did.  In 1995 he started hanging out with Tim, a gay cartoonist who had that sort of life.  I thought they were probably more than friends, so I introduced the cartoonist to Infinite Chazz to distract him.

See: Lane's Bear Boyfriend and the Cute Young Thing 

15. He's the only gay man on Earth who doesn't like San Francisco.  In 1995, we moved to San Francisco, Gay Heaven.  But Lane didn't like it, and soon made an excuse to move back to West Hollywood.




16. He's a closet dancer.  Macho leather men aren't supposed to dance, but when I returned to West Hollywood in 2000 for a visit, he and Randall, the Muscle Bear with the Pierced Penis, took me out to a dance club, and he showed some moves (that was the same night I hooked up with the star of the TGIF sitcom).

See: Randall, the Muscle Bear with the Pierced Penis

17. He's a closet bottom.  When we were together, he wasn't into anal, or said he wasn't.  But when we went to Barcelona, he bottomed for a Catalan guy, and I have it on good authority that he's bottomed regularly for boyfriends and partners since.

18. He disapproves of dating twinks.  Several of my friends have discovered that when they hit 40 or 50, the twinks start following them around.  That hasn't been the case with Lane.  The older he gets, the older his admirers get, and the more he disapproves of dating young guys.

In 2013, I came back to West Hollywood for a visit, and picked up a 20-year old.  Lane has been complaining about that ever since.

See: My Date with a Star of "The Wizards of Waverly Place"


19. He's an Episcopalian.  I'm not sure how or why, but sometime around 2010, after a young adulthood of vigilance toward attempts at brainwashing him to convert, Lane converted.  The Episcopal Church is a pro-gay denomination, heavy on liturgy, with lots of Medieval music playing.  He's still culturally Jewish, but for religion, it's Advent, Lent, baptism, the Eucharist, the whole Christian thing.

20. He's a Grandfather.  In 2015, he married Ben, his partner of 7 years. Ben was then 65 years old, with two sons from a previous relationship, and three grandchildren.  One of them was gay, a new graduate of the the University of Utah with a degree in theater arts.

Maybe that's why Lane disapproves of me dating twinks.  He doesn't want me hooking up with his grandson.  If only he knew that...well, never mind.

See: I May or May Not Have Hooked Up with My Boyfriend's Grandson.

21. Seven and a half inches, cut.  Come on, you know that's the fact you've been hoping for all along.

Chris Redfield in Peril

While browsing through my tumblr feeds of BDSM art, I happened to notice a lot of pictures of someone named Chris Redfield, stern, muscular, very well hung, being menaced.  

Often tied to some sort of milking machine.

Or captured by a tentacle-monster.

Or both.

Rarely any consensual sexual scenes.

I figured he must be a tv character, so I looked on IMDB, and found Resident Evil: Afterlife (2010), wtth Wentworth Miller as an ex-con who fights zombies along with his sister.  He doesn't appear in any of the three previous Resident Evil movies.

He originally appeared in the video game franchise Resident Evil (1996-), a member of a special police force fighting supernatural bogies.  Later he joins a paramilitary group to fight bio-terrorism. 

That explains the monsters, but it doesn't explain why this rather obscure character is so popular.

Some fans think that Redfield is canonically gay.  He doesn't get a female love interest, and he's rescuing his sister, turning over the trope of rescuing the girlfriend.

(all pictures copyright by their respective owners)