Sexual Snake Charming: Northwest Pride, Portland, OR

This weekend as I meandered through Portland as part of Blackout Leather's contingency in the Northwest Pride Parade, I was amused at the number of people who turned their asses toward me as I passed. “Whip me,” they invited. “C'mon, Daddy, please hit my ass.” With my longest snake whip in hand, I walked down the street doing simple tricks. Upon invitation, I invariably cracked my whip in their direction and waved. Others in the crowd ran into the street and asked to pose with me as their friends snapped photos. Still others called out loudly, wanting to be acknowledged by International LeatherSIR.

Over the decades, Pride festivities have changed from political protests to Mardi Gras parades. Often Gay men and Lesbians grumble about this change. As a Leatherman, I celebrate this shift because I have found that I can charm fantasies and hidden desires out of the general public.

Some use Pride Parades as an excuse to expose themselves or to demonstrate their play skills on a shocked audience. This seems to meet their desire for exhibitionism. During my first few parades as a member of the Community, I did the same. Today my motivation has changed. I wear my Leather proudly because I feel that I look my best in full Gear: breeches, boots, uniform shirt, and tie. I like to wear it during Pride as a catalyst for the sexual expression of those participating as spectators.

I feel that Gay and Lesbian Leatherfolk hold the key to sexuality outside of the socially accepted definitions of sexuality. Many people who consider themselves mainstream are anxious to cast aside these definitions in favor of free expression, if only for an hour or a day. Facilitating this expression becomes, in turn, as much a political act as the Stonewall riots.

During the parade yesterday I listened as a number of people ran up to me and whispered their dalliances into SM. As I stood and listened during lulls in the parade, I realized that my light-hearted presence facilitated these confessions. “My partner and I performed the Masochism Tango a few years ago,” confessed an older woman as her partner sat quietly in the sidelines and waved. Her confession brought a broad smile to her face.

Half way through the parade I began popping the cluster of balloons worn as a tail by a member of the Portland Community. As we walked down the street, we beckoned the audience to applaud. Then I would take aim. A veritable circus act in Leather that encouraged a release of laughter from the crowd.

I do not ask for acceptance as a Leatherman. I do want approval. Instead, I demand tolerance to express my sexuality in private. I have seen that those in the mainstream are more prone to exercise tolerance when they recognize the complexity of their own sexuality. The Northwest Pride Parade allowed many to expose their carnality for a brief period, feeling a commonality with those of us marching in Leather.

Happy Pride!

One More Step

I remember the very first time that I solved a Zen koan. “The Zen Master sees that I am not so easily fooled by these Zen riddles,” I thought. “These koans are not so tough after all.”

The Zen Master smiled a broad smile and did not say anything for a few moments. Then he looked directly at me and said, “One more step is still necessary.”

I heard this remark over and over again during the next few years. “One more step.” What did this mean? Wasn't knowledge enough?

My formal Zen training paralleled my Leather training for many years. As a Leatherboy, I read all the requisite writings on Gay SM: The Leathermen's Handbook, Urban Aboriginals, and the monthly installments of Drummer magazine. I listened when my Elders took time to counsel me. And I wrote extensively about my experiences on the receiving side of the lash. In spite of my emerging dominance and my unwavering identification as a Leatherman, I felt unable to impart my knowledge to others.

I recall the first time I saw what I considered a “community” of Leatherfolk. On a midsummer's evening in 1986, a group of Gay Men and Lesbians met in the meeting rooms of the Seattle Center. I recall sitting in Big Eddie's Vine Street Station in Seattle's Belltown area and watching these Leatherclad men and women enter the bar in deep conversation. An electricity filled the room that compelled me to stare unabashedly all evening. I learned later that these folk had just come from the first annual “Living in Leather” conference, and that they were part of the newly formed National Leather Association. In subsequent years, I would participate in these conferences myself.

During the last twenty years, I have observed two very different interpretations of “Living in Leather.” Many have understood the term quite literally. They have taken to wearing their Leather all the time and in all places, exposing their gear and their asses in public. Others have felt that “Living in Leather” was a call to a new religion, exorcising the sleaze out of Leatherplay. Based on their understanding of the change in consciousness experienced during play, these folks followed a therapeutic path, using Leather to gain a greater sense of self.

Both of these views cause me to hearken back to a lengthy conversation I had with Guy Baldwin at one of Seattle Men in Leather's early runs. I was a new member of the club and anxious to learn all that I could from this experienced Leatherman. “Leather is not to be worn to scare children or little old ladies,” he instructed me. Later in the conversation, he added that in spite of its life-changing effects, “Leather is not therapy.”
On occasion, I must admit that I have scared children in my Leather. Hard not to do when marching in Pride Parades and shuttling back and forth to Leather events. And I have profited from the therapeutic effects of Leatherplay. Still, like the ever present bulges in every Tom of Finland work, the erect cock defines my Leather. My protocols, gear, and play all distill to this direct, physical response.

By pointing to the erect cock I am not alluding to the phallus. In Gay Leatherplay, a man's member is far more than a penetrative device. It stands erect as a result of stimulus outside of its geographic location on the body. Leather recognizes this by the varieties of play that we enjoy. In spite of slang terms, the honest cock has no head to either limit its response or to pay heed to political correctness. As Leathermen, we celebrate the cock because it is instinctual, our connection to the animal.

Society finds the need to deconstruct, define, and characterize everything, especially our bodies. In turn, Leather and kink folk have followed suit by defining and redefining our Leather through the word. But when all is written, we must admit that rational thought has little to do with our sexuality. Recitation of facts is not noesis. And understanding based on reasoning is not praxis. Leather is about living

What a boy wants: IML 2011, Chicago, IL

I attended this year's International Mr. Leather Weekend in Chicago with two of my boys. Both very different men yet both united in the bond of Leather Family. During the weekend the boys seldom left my side. After greeting me, a friend exclaimed, “Sir, you are dripping boys!” Even while congratulating the new IML Eric Eric Guttierez, the boys were close at hand.

This year's IML was more than simply a celebration of Leathersex with like-minded men. With my two boys, I rushed from one event to another, building to a climactic play session each day back in the hotel room. On Monday, I played with one boy for almost 12 hours in an almost uninterrupted scene, punctuated by short breaks for meals. At midnight we finally both collapsed on the bed.

“Play makes me feel more alive,” the boy observed after the heavy session, his back welted and bleeding from another single tail session. A paradoxical statement, considering the exhaustion that was quickly setting in.

As a Sir, my role is to create an environment in which my boys can explore themselves and the bond we share together. Heavy play facilitates the creation of that environment. With the body bruised and the mind flooded with the body's chemicals, a boy drops the defenses his public mask affords. No longer able to think clearly, he relies totally on the Dominant to guide him out of pain's immediate darkness. And finally, after enduring an odyssey of heroic proportions, the boy finds his way home with his Sir by his side. The result, a greater understanding of one's strength beyond the social definitions of masculinity.

In spite of the paternal role that I often play in the lives of my boys, the environment of our play is far from nurturing. It is filled with spit, piss, blood, and cum. The emotions cycle from laughter to tears, from love to repulsion, from unity to loneliness, and from boldness to sheer terror. Uniting these emotions together is our shared sexual hunger, an integral component of every scene.

The trust necessary to play on this edge begins long before the scene. The Sir must demonstrate His dedication to the boy from day to day. Essentially, the Sir must condition the boy to trust him through a pattern of service. This tempers the bond between Sir and boy sufficiently to totally submit. The essential exchange that becomes the foundation of a boy's sexual identity.

In an interview with Joseph Bean, John Siracusa, International Drummerboy 1990-1991, states:

Being a Boy is an expression of my sexuality. It allows me to go within myself and nurture the child inside of me. I feel that due to the pressure from society to conform, that we lose track of our innocence and childlike behavior, the things that allow us to be free spirits. Being a Boy is growing up all over again. (Drummer Issue 150; Desmodus, Inc; San Francisco, CA; September 1991)

John does not say that he expects his Sir to nurture him. Instead, he recognizes the responsibility to nurture himself, acknowledging that a boy is still a man.

Indeed, I expect my boys to be men. In play each redefines himself and his body. Whether by a lash on the back, a boot in the groin, or my cock shoved deep inside his guts, the boy knows that I expect him to drop the social mask in order to expose his true self. This is the beginning of the honesty upon which our bond is built.

I am proud to be International LeatherSIR this year, representing the Sirs and boys in the players' Community. I am especially proud to spend the last two months of my Title year standing in service next to Eric Guttierez. Wishing him a great year as International Mr. Leather 2011.