For all stories return to STORYLINES INDEX

Prints at 21 pages - 10,270 words
March 2012 revisions


A Short Story in the form of a script

Not sure how to start this story. It's a personal jerk-off scenario. Putting it down on paper is something of a self-indulgence; a chance to develop a bit further a collection of visual images and a dramatic situation which involve all my favourite turn-ons.
I can see the two main characters very clearly in my mind's eye as I mentally get them to act out an experience I would really like to take part in. Not that either character is me, but they're both part of me. No, I mean there is a little bit of me in each of them.
As I write, I'm still trying to work out a way to put onto paper a mental process I follow naturally two or three times a week; that is, imagining situations which excite me sexually. I build up the action and imagery step by step, picturing every smallest detail of their clothes and actions, listening in on their private thoughts while they're thinking the opposite of what they're saying; watching them manoeuvre when dealing with somebody they hope to win control over - or is it to be controlled by? I like to watch and listen and still be a part of it all.
Maybe it's more like watching a movie that I've written. But if you've ever read through a movie script you'll know how confusing that can be; the mixture of described action, narration, dialogue and instructions to the camera about where to look, or when to be in close-up and when to give a broader view of the whole scene.
Well, for the purposes of developing this favourite fantasy of the Mind's Eye, I guess that's how it's going to be. That's the basic format.

LEATHERMAN: Age between 28 and 38, masculine in appearance and manner. Compact, athletic body. A successful young attorney but you'd never guess it when you see him away from his office. Untroubled by his love for leather and his male/male sexual preferences. He has a relaxed and calm personality, but is not lacking vitality or masculinity. An experienced gamesman in every area of man-to-man control-and-counter control (S&M is a misleading term). In particular, he delights in the subtlety of sensual bondage.

Same age, size, weight as the other man but his experience of life has been totally different. Circumstances have forced him to follow the red-neck route of High School jock role models, army buddies and construction-site stereotypic expectations. A red-blooded resolutely blue collar type who has fought against other natural instincts which have haunted him for twenty years or more - and the strain is beginning to show.

Frequenters of a Leather Bar on the West Side of Manhattan, and the streets of New York at midnight.

LEATHERMAN, dressed in well used and lived-in motorcycle leathers, relaxes on a leather covered bed smoking a hand-rolled cigarette. His leather shirt and bikers pants with padded knees, the heavy-soled bike boots with metal clasps up to his knees, the Langlitz jacket and the Harley cap may be stereotypic, but they are more than a costume. They are his leisure-wear and sometimes night attire.
Smoke curls from his cigarette (or is it a cigar?) as the camera of our Mind's Eye allows us to see the details of his compact form and the way tough leather strains at the seams, and where the weight of his body bites into the leather bed-cover.

As our camera lovingly travels across the mounds and crevasses of his body (and an attendant microphone picks up every creak and stir of leather against leather) an intimate narration 'reads' his mind. It is a stylized reverie or private train of thought.
Perhaps there is a hint of a 'B' movie detective story:

LEATHERMAN: On the floor beside my bed there's a bundle of human meat sweating and straining inside a prison of black leather. As it tries to relieve the pressure on immobilized limbs, I listen to the air being dragged in and forced out through the very few breathing holes in a tight, tightly laced-on hood.

Sounds of breathing grow louder as the camera pans slowly down the LEATHERMAN'S legs and heavy boots to show the trussed-up figure on the floor.
The intimate voice continues as the camera explores in close-up, details of the total leather encasement and immobilization of the 'victim'.

LEATHERMAN: From the soles of his cleated boots to the top of that eyeless, mouthless featureless helmet, it's leather all the way. Tough hide straps creak and groan - as he would groan if he could through a gag and three thicknesses of solid leather. The sound and smell and sight of his suffering body keeps me awake, savouring a dream that might disappear if I close my eyes.
Camera holds the picture as the 'Victim' strains to find some relief inside the heavy leather strait-jacket which wraps and straps his arms across his chest. He then subsides to rest and drag in more air.

From another angle we see the two figures.

LEATHERMAN: Does he know I'm here? - watching - or is he lost in his own suffocating surreal existence - helpless, totally dependent on me - his every sense distorted; no sight, hearing, tactile contact with the outside world. He can smell ... leather, taste the wedge of leather deep in his mouth. What else is left for him?

Sudden close shot of the featureless tightly form-fitting leather hood.

LEATHERMAN: At least his imagination is free to run riot - or has it already switched off, not able to deal with the situation? How much does he know about the effects of Sensory Deprivation? Has he read about experiments in Mind Bending; techniques for reducing even the toughest human being to a disorganized mess of mental and physical insecurity?

The camera begins a new journey across the body of the 'victim', catching a desperate flexing of an aching arm, the useless movement of fingers imprisoned inside the closed ends of the strait-jacket sleeves.

Dramatically, the body suddenly lurches and rolls to reveal for the first time a network of solid straps and heavy buckles. These begin to flex and strain, tugging in different directions. Then the cleated soled boots jerk powerfully against straps which hold them pulled bent towards his tightly leather-covered ass.
After a violent bout of struggling, the body subsides.

LEATHERMAN: The anger will soon die. What then? - despair - fear - or just deadening physical tension? His dependence on me is total. His very existence depends on me; on me being what I pretended to be when we first met three short hours ago.

Camera again includes the LEATHERMAN in the picture.
He still smokes what is probably pot. We continue to hear his voice, although he is not speaking - the style becomes slightly more consciously poetic.

LEATHERMAN: I am all he has in the world at this moment. If I reach out my hand and touch him - he will be grateful to know I'm still here. If I smack him - he will bear it - because he will have no choice. I am the cause of his suffering, the controller of his destiny - his only means of salvation. (He smiles down at the 'Victim') His only dread - his only hope. Without me - he would cease to exist.

The 'Victim' who has begun to make yet another vigorous but totally ineffective attempt to gain extra ease or comfort, suddenly seems to stop fighting.

LEATHERMAN: I wonder how clearly he remembers me? Does he have any idea how long it is since I gradually and patiently manoeuvred him into his present situation? ( Camera begins to close in on the LEATHERMAN's strong, masculine face)
Can he still formulate a rational image in his Mind's Eye? Who and what am I to him? Am I - any sort of reality?

A familiar New York Leather/Western/Denim bar. Not a big crowd. General early evening background atmosphere. All the stereotypes present. Camera registers leather hands on leather buns and crotches. Keys to right and left of bulging denim, cammo and leather baskets. Cockrings and gloves tucked into shoulder epaulets. Hankies of various colours.
The general sound suddenly fades down as we hear the voice of the LEATHERMAN speaking his private thoughts again. This time there is a hint of Jack Webb or some TV crime drama.

LEATHERMAN: In a New York Leather Bar nothing is very real. Everybody putting on a show - stylized costumes - every cliché in the book.

Camera continues to pick up details - hands caressing leather thighs. Studded wristbands, handcuffs hanging from a broad belt.

LEATHERMAN: Cliché after cliché - stereotype on stereotype - they've all read the bible - The Leatherman's Handbook. How many of these guys are for real?

Camera pulls back to reveal that the handcuffs hang from the belt of the LEATHERMAN. He stands alone by the bar. His narration continues but he is not talking as the camera includes him in the scene.
He is relaxed, a casual observer dressed as usual in full leather but with chaps added over leather pants for this sequence - and the handcuffs are there but not ostentatiously displayed.

LEATHERMAN: This is a world for playing scenes in, perhaps playing parts we're not necessarily suitably cast for - many of us pretending to be somebody we're not - like chameleons blending into the background waiting to pounce on some unsuspecting insect.

A STRANGER enters the bar, a rugged regular guy. He doesn't belong. Perhaps the action freezes and the camera snatches a series of detailed close-ups of him; frozen shots from different angles. Every eye in the bar seems to be drawn towards him - not because of any spectacular good looks. Is it just because he is out of his territory.

LEATHERMAN: Now he was for real. Not of this world. What is it that exposes somebody from the real world when they first walk into a place like this? Why is he here? First time in a Gay Bar? - but he's not strayed in by mistake. This Leather Fantasy first came alive when he walked through the door.

Background noise and action bursts into life again as the STRANGER crosses to the bar and orders a beer.
The LEATHERMAN stands watching from further down the bar.

LEATHERMAN: I take careful note of every detail, every sign. Why is he here?

STRANGER notices the LEATHERMAN watching him - and looks away again - without any sign of embarrassment.

LEATHERMAN: Not looking for a Leather Master. Then what?

Young LEATHER QUEEN brushes close to the STRANGER - but he isn't buying what's being offered - pretends not to notice.

LEATHERMAN: He's here for some purpose - some mission. He didn't get that army jacket at a Surplus Store - but the insignia's been stripped off - including sergeants stripes. Who or what? He could be a cop; no, too obvious. I watch him close as he watches the Scene like he's looking in through a window. (The crime-watch type commentary continues) From out-of-town, definitively blue collar - and married - perhaps divorced - ex-'Nam? What's he looking for? Has one of his buddies strayed from the straight and narrow? - or his son - he could have fathered a sixteen-year-old. Or is he considering an alternative lifestyle - sexwise? Or hunting somebody down - a revenge mission? Let's hope he's looking for a few answers to his own questions - ?

The STRANGER again catches the LEATHERMAN watching him - and this time deliberately doesn't look away. He holds the contact. There is no resentment, no challenge, no invitation.
The STRANGER's face just registers 'I know you're watching - so what?'

LEATHERMAN: I play a gambit that doesn't always work.

LEATHERMAN points a gloved hand directly at the STRANGER - and then turns the finger to an unmistakable beckoning motion. It is a command; 'Get over here'.
The STRANGER considers alternatives - then with deliberate casualness picks up his beer can - and makes his way over. Obviously this guy can deal with almost any situation. He stands before the LEATHERMAN.
This becomes the first dialogue sequence.

STRANGER: You want something?

The question is not belligerent - but carries a hint of warning. The LEATHERMAN nods gravely.

LEATHERMAN: I want to know why you're here - and what you're looking for.

The STRANGER considers the approach and takes his time before asking:

STRANGER: You a cop?

LEATHERMAN acknowledges the handcuffs hanging from his belt.

LEATHERMAN: If I said yes - I don't think it would phase you. Would it interest you? (STRANGER gives a noncommittal shrug) These cuffs do not mean that I'm into crime prevention. Let's say I'm a student of human nature. You are a stranger in our midst - I am a native of this scene - but I do have an existence in the Real World.
STRANGER: School teacher?

This is a challenge, a provocation, a criticism which the LEATHERMAN acknowledges.

LEATHERMAN: Lawyer - but I enjoy teaching.
STRANGER: OK - Your Honour - or do I have to call you Sir?
LEATHERMAN: I'm not into Master/Slave relationships - just for the record - Sergeant
STRANGER: Ex - and you?
LEATHERMAN: Ex Sergeant Instructor.

The STRANGER smiles - end of dialogue sequence - because the live action around the bar which seems to have been on hold - suddenly swings back into action.
Over the noise, the two men continue to chat as they finish their beers and order more. #
Instead of hearing them talk - we hear the voice of the LEATHERMAN pick up the narration. The voice is now more natural - and urgent.

LEATHERMAN: (voice only) The link is forged - the path is open. My role-play adjusts to the situation. I know the key that will open the door that'll lead to where he's at.

They take their beers to a quieter corner away from the music.

LEATHERMAN: How long does it take for a man to explain for the first time things which have bugged him on and off for years? My most favourite of favourite scenes - a solid regular guy ready to take a risk - a leap into the unknown - and I'm in the right spot at the right time. I become everything he needs me to be; a buddy he can trust.

The STRANGER talks earnestly. The camera studies his ruggedly masculine face. After a short time his story is interrupted by the entrance of a SLAVE loaded down with manacles accompanied by a LEATHER-MASTER. It's a situation which makes the STRANGER uncomfortable. He is embarrassed, but tries not to show any judgmental reaction. The LEATHERMAN reassures him.

LEATHERMAN: Don't believe everything you see in here. The Master runs a photocopy shop and the slave calls all the shots. Let's talk about you.

The STRANGER turns his attention back to the LEATHERMAN and resumes his story.
The voice of the LEATHERMAN introduces a new sequence.

LEATHERMAN: He explains his situation clearly enough, without embarrassment - but with a sort of determination which gave me the feeling I was the first person he'd ever told.

The voice of the STRANGER now becomes audible as he launches into a long and careful explanation:

STRANGER: I guess I'm a kinda - tourist. Live way out around Mill Valley. Got a wife there and er, all that?. Two kids, boy and a girl. I come here to the city to work - for a while - for a change, y'know. Qualified pipe fitter.

We hear the voice of the LEATHERMAN comment to himself (or us)

LEATHERMAN: (voice only) Not a time to make sexual jokes.
STRANGER: I come down here to see a leather bar because I'd heard about 'em - read about 'em - and thought as how I'd like to see the inside of one.

He pauses, is getting into difficult territory. Takes a pull at his beer as he tries to decide how to continue - and his thoughts come hesitantly:

STRANGER: Leather - it's always made me kinda look twice somehow. You know what I mean? In Westerns - I always felt sorta cheated if one of the main characters didn't wear leather chaps - the shiny kind not suede side out. When I was a kid I got me a genuine old Air Force Bomber Jacket. Wore it through hell and high water - then grew out of it - er, too small, I mean.
Couple of years back I bought me a leather jacket - for work - but it didn't feel right - or should I say - it made me feel - that I shouldn't feel the way I did when I'd got it on. I had the feeling - people knew - that - well, leather gives me a kinda spooky feel, y'know?
Well now, I know these days just about everybody wears leather - women and guys - don't mean nothing. Streets are full of people - but - well something inside'a me - won't let me near it.

He laughs with the last of his breath, having admitted his weakness.

LEATHERMAN: Won't let you near it - but here you are in a Leather Bar.
STRANGER: Well yes. The time came when I just had to face up to - to things - to myself. Hell. I started buying them Leather Magazines! Told myself I was trying to find out what's wrong with me. Hell! Some of them books really scared the shit out of me. I know guys screw guys but well - hell I don't need - I ain't thought about that sort of crap since High School when I was finding out about things - and in the Air Force - it went on a lot - just as a sort of substitute. Anyway, AIDS and all that ...
(his narrative seems to run out)
Do you know what the fuck I'm talking about? I'm not sure I do.
LEATHERMAN: You're turned on by leather, but you're not Gay. Queer!

The STRANGER does not reply immediately - a fact that worries him.

STRANGER: I've been married for eleven years. Even had a couple of women on the side, regular. But all my leather fantasies - and I do think about it - a lot of the time - it's men in leather, not women!
LEATHERMAN: (voice only) His eyes travel down my leather from jacket collar, over well used jacket, down leather legs to bike boots - and he seems to retreat behind a defensive shield.
STRANGER: But I don't want to fuck men!
LEATHERMAN: But you do want to wear leather? (No response) For fucks-sake man! - so do it. Easy.
LEATHERMAN: This bar's full of guys who spend more than they can afford on leather. Some of them eat, sleep and dream leather. It's not a disease! Though I guess it can become one. But I think it's not too late to save you - save you from yourself.

The STRANGER smiles for the first time - but is then unsure of the implications.

LEATHERMAN: Look around you. You think you're peculiar? Do you think you're - 'Queer'?
LEATHERMAN: You think you're 'Kinky'?
STRANGER: I guess so.
LEATHERMAN: You guess so? You don't know?
STRANGER: I guess yes. I'm kinky for leather. But I've never done nothing about it.
LEATHERMAN: Except resist it. Do you think you're the only guy in the world turned on by leather?
STRANGER: Well no ...
LEATHERMAN: Exactly. But you do think you're something, what? Unusual?
STRANGER: Yes, I guess so.
LEATHERMAN: Buddy, you may think you're something special in Mill Valley but in West-side Manhattan you're just one of the crowd. Everybody here either wants to be something they're not, or is trying to find out who the fuck they are. Welcome to the Club.
They shake hands, traditional gesture of masculine trust.

The STRANGER is genuinely grateful, and perhaps doesn't notice the look of quiet satisfaction in the LEATHERMAN's eyes.

STRANGER: How about another beer?
LEATHERMAN: Plenty of time. It's only midnight. The bars are open for hours yet.

We hear the voice of the LEATHERMAN warning himself:

LEATHERMAN: (voice only) Easy does it. Play it slow and easy. This one is too good to lose. (Aloud to the STRANGER) How'd you like to look in on a real Leather Bar? (The STRANGER looks around the sea of Levi's, leather & fatigues) Strictly small time, brother. I'll show you where the real Leather Men come out to play - but they won't let you in dressed the way you are. Where's your leather jacket?
STRANGER: Mill Valley.
LEATHERMAN: Coward. Come on. Got to get you into gear.
STRANGER: Come on where?

The LEATHERMAN has moved before the question is asked.
The STRANGER hesitates - and then pushes his way through a wall of smoke and bodies to follow the LEATHERMAN.

A patchwork of imagery which dramatizes the sleaze of night-time New York and the potential danger to the STRANGER.
Music and sound effects only. No dialogue
Outside the bar, West Street is busy. Men stand around singly and in groups.

The STRANGER leaves the bar in time to see the LEATHERMAN disappearing around a corner. Somebody whistles appreciatively to attract the STRANGER's attention as he walks by. Could be mocking or a serious invitation. The STRANGER is tempted to stop and confront the whistler - but follows after the LEATHERMAN.
Around the dark corner two crash helmets are being unlocked from the LEATHERMAN's powerful bike. One is held out to the STRANGER as he arrives. He handles it like an unfamiliar object.

The LEATHERMAN, having put on his own helmet, loops the bike security chain round his neck - and waits.
The STRANGER hesitates before making a decision, puts the helmet on - and fiddles with the strap which he can't see. The LEATHERMAN helps out - and in close shot we see the gloved hand tighten the strap. The LEATHERMAN smiles (Is it a smile of reassurance or achievement?) before getting astride the bike.
Again hesitation before the STRANGER approaches the leather-clad back. Then the problem of climbing on without making any physical contact with the leather. Awkwardly he lifts his leg over the high pillion seat, but as the bike is revved the STRANGER's hands have to choose between holding onto the LEATHERMAN's waist or somewhere else. We see his high lace-up work boots finding the foot rests close to the LEATHERMAN's heavy buckled biker's boots. As the bike moves away, the STRANGER's hands grab for the tail-frame.

EXHILARATING MUSIC as, in a series of mixed still and moving images, the camera follows the motorcycle across Manhattan. Emphasis is on the lonely and impersonal street life. First, the two riders travel the deserted back streets of the West Side. Occasional solitary figures walk or stand in shadows. Into the Chelsea area where ethnic tenements coexist uneasily with smarter bars, eateries and stores (social contrasts). Then along a brightly lit main street (West 23rd) with well-lit windows.

The STRANGER sees a solitary army vet. sitting in a doughnut shop as they wait at a stop light before crossing Fifth Avenue and into the Gramercy Park area, where the bike pulls up before a nondescript house which is neither sordid nor fancy.
Both men dismount, then the LEATHERMAN swiftly takes off his helmet, leaving the STRANGER struggling to do the same.
As the bike is made safe to leave, the STRANGER struggles more determinedly with the helmet strap. The LEATHERMAN leaves him still trapped inside the black and solid prison, and moves away to unlock the door to the building.

The STRANGER at last manages to escape from the helmet. Slightly dishevelled and off-balance he follows, but then hesitates before the open door.

LEATHERMAN: You want to get into leather. Mine should fit you. There's a stack of it upstairs. No strings (smiles suddenly) - if you know what I mean.

The STRANGER enters the building and the LEATHERMAN has won another point in the game.

Apartment interior, comfortable, not cheap but not ostentatious. Walls show a good selection of leather/bondage artwork - no obvious cock and ball imagery.
The two men enter and the STRANGER waits as the door is re-locked from the inside. He looks for somewhere to put his helmet while the LEATHERMAN goes through the routine of lights on, blinds closed and two beers from the kitchen.
The visitor has placed the helmet carefully on a low table which also displays a piece of bondage sculpture. He is fascinated - and then turns his attention to bondage artwork on the walls as the LEATHERMAN returns.

STRANGER: This really is your lifestyle.
LEATHERMAN: I've reached the time I can take or leave it.
STRANGER: Is that good or bad?
LEATHERMAN: There's a lot of it I can do without - but for tonight - strictly a tourist guide. Scout's honour.
STRANGER: I'm not quite convinced you're for real.
LEATHERMAN: Am I a figment of my own imagination - or of yours?

LEATHERMAN has taken off his jacket. Holds it out to the STRANGER.

LEATHERMAN: Try this for size. What boot size?
STRANGER: Ten - eleven. (
He tries on the leather jacket - likes it - grins.) If your wife could see you now.
STRANGER: Her worst suspicions would be confirmed. When we were first married I bought her a leather coat. She hated it. Gave it to her kid brother.
LEATHERMAN: She has a kid brother? Is he into leather?
STRANGER: I've never been into him. I've told you I don't screw guys - guys do not screw me. No way.
LEATHERMAN: Except at High School - and in - exceptional circumstances with the marines - overseas.
STRANGER: I didn't tell you that to build up your hopes
LEATHERMAN: I'm glad you told me. Bring your drink. The bedroom's this way.
(STRANGER becomes defensive) The leather is in there for Christ sake. It's called a closet!

LEATHERMAN goes into bedroom. STRANGER admits the humour of the situation and starts to follow. Catches sight of himself in a mirror and likes the jacket. Moves towards the bedroom but goes back to get his combat jacket, removes billfold and stuffs it into his pants pocket.

Bedroom is same as in the opening scene.
LEATHERMAN checks out the room, slides chains (which are attached at the foot of the bed) out of sight under the leather cover. We hear his voice although he doesn't actually speak.

LEATHERMAN: Whoops. Don't want to panic him. This is more fun than playing a salmon - maybe a marlin if things get really rough.

The STRANGER enters carrying combat jacket. Lays it on the leather-covered bed which he then acknowledges.

LEATHERMAN: Leather all the way, that's me.
STRANGER: What does your cleaning woman think of all this?
LEATHERMAN: He - thinks it's great.

STRANGER retreats into his beer can but when the wardrobe door is opened he is impressed. Wide variety of leather motorcycle suits and jackets, plus harnesses, belts and boots.

LEATHERMAN: Take your pick. Cinderella, you shall go to the ball.
The host settles back in an arm chair with his beer and savours the sight of a blue-collar, regular guy being obviously turned-on by leather and boots.

At first he's too self-conscious to actually touch, but gradually he begins taking hangers out to look more closely at various jackets, one-piece suits.
The camera acts as his eye, roving over leather surfaces, metal snaps, zips with close scrutiny. The eroticism of this sequence is in watching a man gradually being seduced by his own natural instincts.
The STRANGER finds a full-length leather bodysack with long metal zipper and many 'D' rings. Then a heavily riveted leather strait-jacket.
He refers this to the LEATHERMAN, who watches impassively.
Next the visitor turns his attention to the boots; loggers boots, western boots, police boots, work boots, rubber waders. Eventually he turns to the LEATHERMAN for guidance or suggestions. All he gets is a noncommittal shrug. The STRANGER humorously mimics the shrug.

LEATHERMAN: Cat got your tongue?
STRANGER: Speechless! Do you really get to use all these?
LEATHERMAN: You mean other than in the bedroom?
(STRANGER is embarrassed) Sure I've used them - over the years. I've been on fishing trips, back-packing, hunting parties.
STRANGER: Oh yea? Ever get to catch any fish or shoot any game?
LEATHERMAN: Oh - games that'd make your innocent heart flutter. I know how to hook a fish - and snare a stag.
STRANGER: I bet you do.
LEATHERMAN: But it's my guess you could teach me a few new wrinkles in the rough-and-tumble department. You wrestle?
STRANGER: Have done.
LEATHERMAN: Me too - when I get the chance. Well, what are you going to wear?
STRANGER: You tell me.
LEATHERMAN: If that's how you want to play it.

He gets up - picks out a pair of bikers pants with padded knees and hips, and slings them at his guest.

LEATHERMAN: Climb into those for a start.

As the LEATHERMAN chooses boots and finds socks the STRANGER looks over the pants, lays them on the bed and prepares to strip down. He decides he should take the leather jacket off for the moment. He then sits on the bed to unlace his boots, and notices the chains attached to each corner of the bed-frame.
LEATHERMAN notices the discovery.

LEATHERMAN: All tastes catered for. Don't worry, Sergeant, I'm not into rape.
STRANGER: I'm glad - Lieutenant.
LEATHERMAN: Sergeant Instructor - sergeant.
(The STRANGER nods acceptance) If we're going to get out on the town again you're going to have to move your ass - time wise, that is.

The STRANGER unzips pants, strips off shirt - picks up leather vest which has been thrown down for him and then decides that his tee shirt must go. As he stands in jockey shorts finding his way into the leather vest the LEATHERMAN coughs discretely and points to the underpants.

LEATHERMAN: Under leather ... (he shakes his head)

STRANGER shrugs - finishes his beer in one long pull - then peels off his briefs, ending with a quietly humorous movement of a stripper dropping a garment.
LEATHERMAN walks towards him - and then picks up the empty beer can.

STRANGER: Oh - are you trying to get me - get me.
LEATHERMAN: Bet your ass, baby.

Winks before disappearing into the kitchen.
The STRANGER stands for a moment - before pulling on the leather pants - which just about fit. But pulling up the zipper becomes something of a problem because he is becoming aroused. He mutters "Oh shit" before quickly heading towards the bathroom.
The LEATHERMAN returns in time to see the bathroom door close. He speculates what next - picks up combat jacket and quickly searches through pockets - nothing. Puts jacket back on bed - then decides to change its position - putting it close to bedside table. Unhooks handcuffs from his belt and puts them on table close to coat. Surveys effect - repositions handcuffs to make them look as if they were casually left there. From bedside table drawer he takes tin tobacco box of smokes and puts them within easy sight and reach.
STRANGER returns wearing leather pants and vest.

LEATHERMAN: How do they feel?
LEATHERMAN: They're supposed to feel tight. They look good
STRANGER: They feel great.
(Handing him white socks) Boots. Any preference.
STRANGER: Surprise me.
(They exchange looks)
LEATHERMAN: Is that a challenge?
STRANGER sits pulling on socks tucking pants leg into them carefully. He shakes his head.
STRANGER: I think I'd be out of my league.

As the second sock is tucked under the pants his hand roams over the leather on his calf and then thighs.

LEATHERMAN: Does that feel good?

STRANGER nods, slightly embarrassed.
LEATHERMAN shows high motorcycle boots with seven buckles down the side. He kneels before the STRANGER, placing boots in front of him. The camera watches in close-up as each foot finds its way in.
LEATHERMAN begins to buckle the boot from the top.
STRANGER accepts this help, looking down at the broad leather-covered shoulders of the man kneeling before him.
When the LEATHERMAN lifts the boot and places it in his leather-covered crotch, it is a logical move to enable him to strap the lower buckles - but neither man looks the other in the eye.
The STRANGER forces his attention away from the boot and he sees the handcuffs on the table beside him. He picks them up with deliberate casualness as the LEATHERMAN confines his attention to the second boot.

STRANGER: You use these?
LEATHERMAN: They ain't earrings. You ever been arrested?
STRANGER: Couple of times. Nothing serious.
LEATHERMAN: Case of mistaken identity?
STRANGER: Case of too much alcohol. You ever get shit-faced?
LEATHERMAN: I like to stay in control of the situation.
(picks up smokes) You like to get high?

He smells the tobacco tin. Boots are now on.
LEATHERMAN stands, takes tin and opens it.
Offers a ready-rolled joint to STRANGER.

LEATHERMAN: I find it helps when things get a little tense.
(Looking at joint) Is that a challenge?

LEATHERMAN lights up and inhales. Offers it to STRANGER - who takes it. He is no stranger to the procedure.

STRANGER: What time do these bars close?
LEATHERMAN: We have time enough. How do they feel?
(The boots)

STRANGER stands and feels them out.

STRANGER: They feel good.
LEATHERMAN: They look good - you look good - but incomplete.

He begins to search among leather jackets hanging on rail. Pulls out and considers jacket with coloured leather racing flashes. Rejects.
Produces heavy continental Police Bike coat; returns it to the rack.
Takes down leather strait jacket - shows it, straps dangling in all directions. Smiles and throws it aside casually (rather than hanging it back on the rail). Brings out a standard Langlitz bike jacket.
The STRANGER accepts this and immediately tries it on.
As he connects the zipper and begins to close it, the LEATHERMAN adjusts the side laces, pulling them tighter and knotting them expertly (the camera watches the expert knotting in close-up).
As the STRANGER looks at himself in the mirror LEATHERMAN draws on joint and watches.

LEATHERMAN: Well, do you turn you on?

Hands him a Harley cap - which the STRANGER refuses.

STRANGER: Too much man.
LEATHERMAN: Too much! Sir is only wearing basic black. The accessories are essential if you don't want to get lost in the crowd.
(turns to select accessories)
STRANGER: These bars - I guess they're pretty - er - up-front.
LEATHERMAN: Up front, up back. Where we're going it's no holds barred. Even in this day and age the action gets definitely - up front. But don't worry, I'll protect you.
(STRANGER looks dubious) You're not going to chicken out, are you?

Offers him a studded wristband and the joint.
The STRANGER smiles and accepts both. As he smokes he studies the double-studded wristband.

LEATHERMAN: Here. (He straps it on the STRANGER's wrist)
STRANGER: Is this symbolic?
LEATHERMAN: Just an accessory. I promised you the leather experience. Might as well try it all on. See how you feel.
(Hands him heavy gauntlet gloves)
STRANGER: I get the feeling I'm getting in over my head.
LEATHERMAN: Come on in, the waters fine.

As the LEATHERMAN straps the wrist of the thick gauntlet, the STRANGER wonders if he can get them off again.
He inspects the two snaps - and then makes a fist and punches into his own palm.

LEATHERMAN: Gives you a feeling of power, doesn't it.

Turns to drawer looking for something else.
STRANGER stands looking himself over. He watches in the mirror as the other man opens his epaulet and hangs a metal cockring there.

LEATHERMAN: Think of it like a tree-trimming ceremony.

The STRANGER doesn't smile - and the LEATHERMAN drops his joking manner.
We hear his private comment.

LEATHERMAN: (Voice only) The scene isn't developing the way I wanted. This dumb-ass is too uptight for his own good.
(Aloud) Look man, I'm not trying to make you - or trap you or rob you. You wanted to get the feel of leather. If it's not working out the way you thought it would - I'm sorry. I'm not a sex therapist. My life motto is,"If it turns you on - do it, if it doesn't - fuck it."
Well, I've enjoyed watching you adventure into leather-land. I can get my rocks off watching other guys get turned on - just watching them. And don't try to kid me - or fool yourself. You are turned on by leather. Now, if you want to see the real hot spots - strictly as a tourist - there are still a few places where the really committed leathermen congregate, if you know where to look - and I know them all. But, if you've decided you've gone about as far as you can allow yourself to go - OK - fine. Disappear into the bathroom and shoot another load - have another beer and go on back home to the wife and kids. If you want to stick around here and rap some more - good. I'd like that.

(The STRANGER is about to speak but he isn't allowed) IF you're afraid that I'll jump you or slip you a mickey ... (holds up handcuffs) you can make sure I don't get the chance.

The STRANGER accepts the cuffs.
LEATHERMAN turns and puts his hands behind his back and waits. Suddenly he remembers keys. He unclips the heavy bunch from his belt and holds it out.

STRANGER: (Takes keys) Aren't you taking a big risk.
LEATHERMAN: You've got to take risks. You've got to take risks.
STRANGER: I - I guess - I guess I could use another beer - and we'll stay here - not go out to the bars.
LEATHERMAN: Anything you say.

As the LEATHERMAN goes to the kitchen, the camera picks up his look of triumph.
Left alone the STRANGER inspects handcuffs - reassures himself that cuff key is on the ring. He knows exactly which key it is.
Qucily he positions the handcuffs on the bedside table - then shifts the position to make them look casually placed, much as the other man did.
Next the visitor looks into a drawer and sees leg-irons, blindfolds, leather hoods. Checks that leg-irons have a key with them.
LEATHERMAN returns with two cans.

LEATHERMAN: I didn't open yours - so you're quite safe
STRANGER: I guess you think I'm a bit of a prick.
(Looking at his crotch) Well, maybe yes, maybe no. Sorry. No sexual innuendoes. You don't fuck or get fucked.
(He sits on the bed and stares at his beer can) I don't do much at all.
LEATHERMAN: Now don't get maudlin!
STRANGER: I jack off, speculate, fantasize and do - nothing!
LEATHERMAN: You walked into that bar tonight.
STRANGER: I've done that before - had two drinks and gone to a movie.
LEATHERMAN: Dirty movie?
LEATHERMAN: Jack off over what fantasy?
STRANGER: Leather - rope
(with some effort) ... bondage. (He drinks deep)
LEATHERMAN: Wash your mouth out! Men or women?
LEATHERMAN: Are you tying or being tied.
LEATHERMAN: Now that is not easy!!
LEATHERMAN: OK sergeant, this is the time in your life when you either do or you don't. I am not going to make it easy. You either want to push yourself a step further or you don't. I can't double-guess what you'd like to happen next. I'm not your fucking shrink.
LEATHERMAN picks up a leather collar with a padlock and key. Stands in front of the seated STRANGER and throws the collar into his leather clad lap.
LEATHERMAN: OK man, decision time. Either put that on - put it on me - or fuck off home.
STRANGER: I want to ...
LEATHERMAN: No more talk until you've made that choice. Free choice. Then we'll talk, I promise. You can even switch and try the other side of the coin later - but for this moment - take a risk - make a decision.
(Heavy choice. LEATHERMAN waits) I'm not going to make this easy for you, guy. Make your move.

Indicates his own neck, the STRANGER's neck and the door.
The STRANGER hesitates further but eventually buckles the collar on his own neck before looking up at the LEATHERMAN, who offers him the padlock.

LEATHERMAN: You lock it on. You're still making choices.

After watching him lock the padlock the LEATHERMAN picks up the handcuffs, indicating that these are next.

LEATHERMAN: Stand up. (He does so) Turn around.

Without further instruction the STRANGER places his hands together behind him, palms out. The camera watches closely a s the cuffs are locked onto heavily gloved wrists.

LEATHERMAN: Your choice, friend. No force. No tricks. If you want to know more about what I do, what I like ... If you want to know what some of these things you've fantasized about feel like when they happen for real, I'm the man to make them happen. But you are going to be making free choices at every stage of the game.(He takes the STRANGER's face between his gloved hands and brings it close to his own)
We're talking games, friend. Man to man games. Maybe a little rough, some of the games, but no more rugged than clawing up a rock face or wrestling with a buddy who doesn't think you're made of cut-glass. Sex isn't necessary to me. My kicks come from control - or being controlled - but for now you are calling all the shots. OK?

The STRANGER nods - but the other man's eyes tell him this is not enough.

LEATHERMAN: Right. You have to say the words.
(Picks up leg-irons) OK?

The camera savours the sight and every sound of the irons closing around the heavily booted feet. The LEATHERMAN stands and faces the STRANGER who, with great effort, manages to look him in the eye.

LEATHERMAN: What now? (The other man doesn't know) Nervous?
STRANGER: Of course I'm fucking nervous.
LEATHERMAN: Good. I like to see a guy off-balance and sweating.
(Touches the other mans face - and the STRANGER stands firm) Got a hard on? (As the LEATHERMAN feels down towards the visitor's crotch the STRANGER pulls back instinctively) Just checking. You have a hard-on.
STRANGER: I've had a hard-on since you pointed at me and called me over in that bar.
LEATHERMAN: Right. Kneel down.

The STRANGER kneels without hesitation. This brings his face close to the crotch of the heavy bikers pants.
The camera studies his face and its closeness to the bulging crotch.

LEATHERMAN: I could force you to suck my cock - and I could fuck your virgin ass.

STRANGER begins to shake his head, but gloved hands suddenly clamp the head, totally preventing the movement.
He opens his mouth to speak and one hand quickly releases the head and a knuckle is inserted between the teeth.
These do not bite the fingers. The knuckle moves touching first the top and then the bottom teeth - until the mouth is wide open. The gloved finger continues to move around, indicating that the mouth is open of its own free will.

LEATHERMAN: Don't say 'No' yet - not at this stage of the game. Because if you say 'No' at any point - the game stops - it's over - and won't restart. Think about that. That's your insurance - but also a danger for you. Understand? (He nods reluctantly)
So - now we talk. Have you ever been fucked?
(The STRANGER is about to say 'No' but settles for a shake of the head)
In a couple of hours I could have you begging me to stop what I'm doing to you and fuck your ass instead - do you believe that? Do you? (This question receives a nervous nod) But I would rather fuck with your mind, buddy. Would you like that?
(He won't say 'Yes' or 'No') You have to choose, buddy. You've been pressing your nose against the window for too long. You enjoy a good work-out at the gym, don't you?
STRANGER: Yes sir.

The LEATHERMAN slaps him quite hard across the side of the head.

LEATHERMAN: None of that 'Sir' shit. We're equals - buddies - trust is the name of the game. Whatever I do to you - you can do to me after - if you want to - if you're man enough. But if you're ever going to find out what it feels like, you've got to learn to say 'Yes'. If you one time say 'No' - the merry-go-round stops - and you get flung off. Savvy?
LEATHERMAN: So - you agree to let me indulge my particular fancies
(STRANGER nods) Even if it involves torturing your tits - your balls?
STRANGER: If I get to do the same to you - or worse.
LEATHERMAN: Worse!? Good! But you agree that it's my turn to call the shots - and a 'No' lets you out if it gets too tough?
(The STRANGER nods) OK my friend - let's party.

He begins to unlock the handcuffs. STRANGER is surprised - disappointed?


LEATHERMAN: Unlock the other cuff.

Manipulating the small key with a heavily gloved hand takes all the STRANGER's attention. Camera moves in to watch the process. After he's opened the cuff, sees that LEATHERMAN is holding the heavy leather strait-jacket.

LEATHERMAN: Some of the things I have in mind may drive you crazy. A strait-jacket is meant to prevent the patient from injuring himself or his 'controller'. Yes?

STRANGER nods and begins to unzip his bike jacket.

LEATHERMAN: Leave the jacket on.

As the STRANGER puts his gauntleted hands down into the heavily riveted long leather sleeves of the strait-jacket the LEATHERMAN talks reassuringly while starting the elaborate process of buckling the many straps.

LEATHERMAN: I like nothing better than seeing a guy with balls buckled and strapped and sweating and helpless.

Straps rattle closed and leather creaks as the jacket is made progressively more secure and pressure on the STRANGER's bulging padded arms and chest becomes tighter and more totally confining.
He spreads his feet further apart to withstand the tugging on the solid leather straps.

LEATHERMAN: All that strength and power - boiling and seething but completely powerless. Power is something we grow up with - take for granted - until it's taken away from us - and then the feeling of helplessness creeps up - inside our bones. It's there before we realize it - recognize it. The mind and the muscles don't accept it at first - powerlessness. I bet you still feel you have the power to resist - at least put up a fight - but the time for fighting the way you're used to fighting is already gone. No arms to use to defend yourself - no feet even .

Camera watches the shackled booted feet shift instinctively.

LEATHERMAN: How long is it since you were physically totally helpless? You ever been in the hospital? In splints or bandages? (STRANGER shakes his head, very tense) Maybe you will be before the night's over; bandaged from head to feet - just your balls out in the open - maybe the crack of your ass accessible. You may not like the idea but if all goes the way I expect it to go, you won't have any say in the matter. Do you think you can deal with reaching a point where it's no longer your decision? (No immediate response) Do you think you can deal with that possibility? (Eventually the STRANGER allows himself to nod) Good man. Good decision. You'll survive it even if you don't particularly enjoy it at the time. You can have confidence that you'll be able to have your revenge - if that's what you want when the time comes.

The LEATHERMAN smiles and suddenly the sweating STRANGER laughs nervously, his breath restricted by the tightness of the strapping around his chest and arms.

STRANGER: Too fucking right!!
LEATHERMAN: That's what I like to hear. Now - the time for making decisions is almost over, buddy - for the present, anyway. Even the time for saying 'No' in this particular phase. Do you think you can handle it?
(STRANGER nods, determined to go along with the situation)
Have you ever tried a leather hood?
(The other man is about to say 'No' but hesitates) Sorry, I'll rephrase that - are you willing to try a hood that shuts out all light - and makes you totally unable to speak - even to say 'No'? Are you willing?
(Looking down at his strapped arms) Even if I said I wasn't, I guess you could force me into it.
LEATHERMAN: Yes I could. But that's not the name of the game this time round, buddy. I'd get a hell of a kick out of fighting you into some sort of restraint. In the right place where there were no lamps to smash and furniture to destroy, I'd get one hell of a charge out of wrestling you until one of us was overpowered. But that's not the game tonight, right? Tonight it's my pleasure to make you not only agree to - but ask for being completely - what? - taken over. Now, are you willing to have an eyeless, mouthless hood over your head with a gag in your mouth?
(The STRANGER nods, but the LEATHERMAN is not satisfied) You want me to put you into an eyeless mouthless leather hood with a gag that will totally prevent you from complaining or even saying 'No'? (STRANGER nods again but is getting more nervous)
Then say it, fellar. I want to hear you ask for it. Tell me what you want me to do to you, man.
(The other man licks his lips nervously) Say it!
LEATHERMAN: I want you to put me into an eyeless, mouthless leather hood with a gag in my mouth that won't allow me to say 'No' if the going gets tough.
(With supreme effort) I - want you to put me into an eyeless, mouthless leather hood - with a gag in my mouth - that won't allow me to say 'No'.
(Smiling) Good man.

Again, as the LEATHERMAN prepares the next stage of the game, he talks reassuringly to his 'victim'.

LEATHERMAN: I've tried a lot of different ways of silencing somebody I'm playing around with. These are gum-shields - got 'em from a sport store. I guess you've used them. I bet you've done some boxing sometime.

Too late for the STRANGER to reply because the flexible plastic mouthpiece is in and seated, encasing his top and bottom teeth. While the STRANGER is dealing with them the LEATHERMAN has an efficient-looking leather hood at the ready.
The STRANGER has no time to even try and talk as the hood begins to settle down over his head.

LEATHERMAN: This hood is my favourite. OK there's no mouth-hole for any cock-sucking or boot-licking - but that's not the name of the game tonight, buddy-boy. Can you still hear me? (The hood nods) Good, I could have used earplugs to really cut you off from reality - but I want to be able to communicate with you now and then. (Begins to lace the hood expertly and super-tightly as he talks) You see, I've screwed around with guys of every shape and style until it's all distilled down to the feel and smell and taste of leather over a powerful but powerless hunk of - what? - real man.

Standing behind the hooded STRANGER the LEATHERMAN puts out his tongue and licks the broad leather shoulder. Teeth gently bite into the leather and the shoulder tenses. He then talks into his prisoners ear.

LEATHERMAN: Only your cock and balls and your mind will be mine to play around with. You won't be able to see or speak - or yell - but you won't really care because you'll begin to float in your own dark - safe world - because you will be safe, buddy-boy. All the sensations you ever dreamed of will be yours, whatever your name is. All the things you ever wanted to happen to you - this hood will free you to experience them - knowing that there's somebody outside who will keep you safe - and calm - and secure - because you have no decisions to make any more. You can just float and forget the real world. Open your mind to all those images and fantasies and pictures that have excited you for all those years. Even things you've resisted and rejected. I wonder what they are? What people and what situations have attracted you - and scared you because they attracted you? I wish I could see the pictures that'll begin to float through your head now you don't have any other powers or decisions or senses to distract you from your innermost self.

In a well-funded movie, this should be the beginning of a dreamlike sequence of images from the past of a jock who was turned-on by man-to-man control and counter-control.
Covers from PHYSIQUE PICTORIAL (before it came out of the closet), cowboy, prison and sea-going tying-up, torture and flogging sequences from old movies. Before this sequence gets underway, the images begin to tilt sideways and become unsteady.
We see that the LEATHERMAN is gently directing the helpless bundle down onto the floor beside his bed. When this is achieved, extra straps are produced to secure the booted, manacled feet tightly up to one of the many strong straps at the back of the strait-jacket. The strap rattles closed and the boots almost touch the leather-covered ass.
Sudden cutaway to a black limbo, where we see the STRANGER, wearing western boots and chaps, being hog-tied with rope by somebody in cowboy gear including leather chaps.
Scene changes back to the present, where the LEATHERMAN is finishing hog-tying the STRANGER in his bikers leathers and boots.
He then stands up straight, towering over the trussed figure, and nudges him gently with his heavy boot.

LEATHERMAN: Can you move any? Let's see a bit of life in there, buddy. I like to see a bit of struggle and straining.

Serious effort is put into the attempt, but any movement the strait-jacketed bundle can produce is minimal.

LEATHERMAN: OK don't wear yourself out. Time'll come when you're more desperate to move or change position. Not that time will mean much. Who knows. You may be there for two hours or twelve. Nobody knows where you are. I could keep you here for a night or a week. You've read stories about people being kept chained up in private dungeons around the USA. Happening all the time according to Drummer magazine and DungeonMaster. I have a storage cellar under this house. Wouldn't be the first time it's been used to scare the shit out of some punk kid I've picked up off the streets. Might be fun to rig a space and keep you prisoner down there for a month or more.

In the black void the STRANGER sees himself dressed in a thick army cold-weather parka, chained and manacled in a cellar space.

LEATHERMAN: People saw us talking together in that bar - but we didn't leave together - and nobody would connect us. If you just happened to disappear for a month or more. Geez, I bet I could make you real angry and eager for revenge by then. Wonder what sort of retribution you might dream up. Tempting idea - to get you so pissed off, you'd show your real nature.

Chained to a wall in a dank cellar the STRANGER goes berserk, tearing at his manacles as, at a distance, a faceless leather-clad observer jerks himself off.
Suddenly back to the present:

LEATHERMAN: Well, friend, don't worry about it for now. You'll get let out before daylight - but that's a long time in the position you're in. Your muscles will scream and you'll lose a couple pounds in sweat, and for a week you'll feel as if you've been put through a washing machine. You'll try to hang onto your mind for as long as you can - but my advice is to just switch off and watch the picture show that takes over your head. All those favourite images you've jerked off over for years - enjoy them the way your guilt wouldn't allow you to enjoy them before. You've got no responsibilities here - not moral or family. You don't need to prove anything or hide anything - perhaps for the first time in your life. You're free, man - free to enjoy - free to lose yourself in the scrapbook of your own mind.

As the LEATHERMAN settles back onto his leather-covered bed and lights another joint, the camera closes in on the hooded head of the STRANGER and the montage of bondage imagery resumes.

TIME OUT - For the moment, this is the author speaking:
As this is my personal jerk-off fantasy I know all the images I would like to cram into the climax (although I've already shot my bolt giving details of so many of my favourite sights and scenes).
If this really was a movie scenario, the fantasies of the character are what would matter. Well, I know this guy, 'The Stranger'. OK he's been looking at KAKE and TOM OF FINLAND, but hiding behind his 'straightness' - so, let's give him a wide-ranging review of the sort of images that have turned him on, secretly, all through his life. To hell with the budget and problems of filming so many different sequences in so many different locations - let the man enjoy himself with a regular festival of erotic film footage.

The black void inside the tight-clinging leather hood begins to fill with erotically appealing sights and sounds punctuated by violent physical action ...
HIGH SCHOOL JOCKS indulge in changing-room and shower horseplay. Suddenly, muscular arms grab an athletic neck and soon, in close-up, we see white adhesive tape fixing struggling wrists and ankles to wall bars or other gymnasium equipment. New imagery imposes itself as the location changes ...
BOXING RING with two well-matched young fighters sparring. They wear protective helmets and padded crotch covers. Suddenly, in close-up, boxing glove strings are being laced to ropes of the corner post of a boxing ring and silk shorts are being dragged down or torn away. An exotic bird screeches ...
ARMY GUYS in full battle gear on patrol in jungle or woodland terrain are jumped by others who proceed to bind them with khaki webbing straps and torment their prisoners. The situation could be either actual battle conditions or an army training exercise.
But suddenly the victim is in civilian hunting clothes - perhaps being tied or teased by cammo-clad hunters or back-packing buddies.
The pumping hand on a captive crotch suddenly sounds like a pneumatic hammer/drill and the locations is changed to a construction site ...
CONSTRUCTION WORKER in an unfinished building or warehouse approaches another, and through menace or after a fight binds with wire or duct tape. The bound man watches as ...
A LASSO IS THROWN and in a violent struggle across dusty earth or in a stable, boots and leather chaps are roped elaborately and securely. As the aggressor cinches the final knots ...
A COPS PISTOL nuzzles into the ear of a leather-jacketed hoodlum. Two cops hold the prisoner at bay. Cuffs are applied - and leg-irons are produced by the arresting officers (unofficial gear which amuses the cops and freaks out their victim). Once efficiently manacled, the officers smile and produce more unofficial equipment - like a substantial gag and the threat of a large butt plug. The panicking but helpless hoodlum is then carried down into a secret domestic cellar by the two smiling cops.

Maybe, in this very special sequence of imagery, the STRANGER features as the aggressor at the beginning of the various sections - but then miraculously each time assumes the role of the victim - if the cinematography is up to it.
The more confused and illogical the collection of mind's-eye images, the more it will represent an over-view of the STRANGER's confused attraction to erotic bondage.
In any event the climax could certainly be a crescendo of visual (or mental) erotic excitement.
If anybody has got any energy left - the final sequence of this scenario should be a return to the bedroom.

The situation is almost as it was at the beginning of the film (or story) - The leather-strait-jacketed figure is still lying on the floor - but his cock is now exposed and there are cum-stains around his leather thighs.
For one last time the camera travels lovingly over the strapped boots and up onto the leather bedspread, where booted feet and leather-clad thighs are again traversed.
The voice of the LEATHERMAN accompanies this slow visual journey across leather in close-up:

LEATHERMAN: The idea of tough, powerful bodies encased, restrained, held prisoner and completely in my power and powerless to resist is the main theme of erotic fantasy for me every time. I like to see men writhe, but writhe in enjoyment rather than agony. The sound and smell and sight of his suffering body on the floor beside my bed - keeps me awake; savouring a dream that might disappear if I close my eyes.

Only now do we see the face of the figure on the bed through a haze of cigarette smoke. It is not the LEATHERMAN but the STRANGER, now wearing the LEATHERMAN's clothes, enjoying his cigarettes and smiling down at the trussed figure on the floor as the credits roll.


For more 'storylines' check out HOUDINI CONNECTIONS WEB SITE