This article appeared in the July-August 1980 issue of Christopher Street, on pages 16-23.
This interview is a portrait of an individual. It is not an attempt to characterize an entire group of gay men, or to describe a form of sexuality which, like any other, is subject to wide variation. What attracted me to this man was less his “masochism” than the intensity of his efforts to realize his desires.
Would you define yourself as a masochist?
I hadn’t until we talked about doing this piece. Before, I could never admit that I was, and I didn’t want to be classified under such a name. I guess I didn’t want to see myself as one. Well, now I am, and I accept the fact that I am.
Was it as difficult for you to accept this as it was to accept your homosexuality?
I never had a problem accepting myself as a homosexual. I knew I liked men since I was thirteen.
Do you think your masochism was there from the beginning?
Oh, I think it must have always been there. I had fantasies of a kind of hidden, forbidden excitement, and I read stories and magazine articles, and I would look at certain pictures. But it never came out. I never met anybody I wanted to practice it with until I met the man I’m involved with now, who kind of took my fantasies and made them real. It’s really with him that this life began for me.
Can you talk about that beginning?
I don’t know where to start. Right from the first time I dug him. I thought he was really hot sexually, physically. I was going through a long, difficult period in my life. I was breaking up with a lover and feeling lost. I met him, and we did it, and I found it very hot and very exciting. It’s even more exciting now, because it’s grown. We both put a lot of energy into it.
How long have you been together?
Almost two and a half years. We know what each one likes, and there’s a challenge.
What kind of challenge?
Sexual, mental…to increase the pleasure and to increase our involvement with one another.
How? Do you spend a lot of time together?
Yes and no. Most of it is sexual, but we do meet a lot for lunch, and he calls me at night on the phone. We talk about sex, but I also help him sometimes with his problems. For example, I encourage him when he’s troubled about his job. … He has a lover. He’s involved emotionally with the man he lives with. That takes a lot of his time.
That must disturb you.
Of course it does, but I think that’s part of my masochism also. I can’t see him when I want. I don’t call him that often at home. I have to wait for his call. Waiting, sitting around, is also masochistic.
Would you say you enjoyed that?
I must, because I do it. I enjoy getting those calls. I don’t enjoy it when he doesn’t come through. I used to get very upset when I expected him to call and he didn’t. But he never said he would call, so by getting upset I created some kind of trauma within myself. He also likes the idea of me sitting around waiting for his calls and being on call twenty-four hours a day.
Somebody has actually defined masochism as “waiting in its pure form.” But haven’t we all gone through that at some time?
I find it frustrating. I enjoy getting those calls. I don’t enjoy it when he doesn’t come through. I used to get very upset when I expected him to call and he didn’t. But he never said he would call, so be getting upset I created some kind of trauma with myself. He also likes the idea of me sitting around waiting for his calls and being on call twenty-four hours a day.
And that pleases you—the fact that it pleases him?
Yes—but we’re going a little too fast there. In the beginning I wasn’t so devoted, and I wasn’t always around. But then it grew to the point where I wouldn’t do anything until I found out exactly what his plans were. I would arrange to have my free time around the time he was allotting me.
So what makes that necessarily masochistic in your vision of it?
Because I don’t think that on his part it was waiting. Because it was one-sided. He was always in control. He would have the time; he wanted to see me. He wasn’t around when I was free.
Have you ever confronted him with this situation?
That was my role, and I wanted it. That was the role of being the slave—the servant—being there for him twenty-four hours a day to fill any and all needs he had; and his needs were first, and by pleasing his needs, my needs would be taken care of.
Does he use those words too?
Yes, they came from his mouth, too, nut not in the very beginning.
Do you use the word master in reference to him?
Yes, but more often I use sir.
Has being designated a slave ever bothered you in any way?
Yes and no. I have read about slaves in history. I know what that means. But for me it’s different. There’s a sexual excitement, a sexual stimulation about it that turns me on. I’m not living it 100 percent of the time like the historical slave. I do have to go out into the world and deal with it on another level. What I do with him is just one level, one fantasy.
I know you’ve had a very successful business career to the point where you don’t have to work right now. We could say, in fact, that in the outside world you are one of the masters.
True. In that sense my slavery is a fantasy. I haven’t given up my life to be any person’s slave or servant. I haven’t given up my own self and personality to the extent of the historical thing, where somebody buys you, owns you, and tells you exactly what to do all the time. But I am a slave to him and to our sex, yes. I can’t get out of it. I don’t want to.
But you are frustrated.
Yes, because I can’t have what I want when I want it.
Isn’t there something of the master in what you just said—a desire to call some of the shots? Would that be an accurate description?
Yes, I’d say so. Yes.
Have you played the role of master with someone else?
Yes, but not with him. And as I said, in the last two and a half years I haven’t fooled around with many other people at all.
Have you acted toward other people the way you would like them to act toward you, were they the master?
I have not been someone else’s slave.
No—we’re talking about your role as master.
I’ve done it with one or two other men. I’m not into following certain defined roles. I go to bed with them and take it as it comes. If I find they need to be tremendously dominated, I take that role. I enjoy and have desires to bind men and be stronger than them. But I haven’t seen any other men for a good year now. I want to say again that my relationship with my man did not start out as slave and master. In the beginning, things were basically equal, with one person being more dominant, so-called, in bed, and the other not so much passive as taking on the passive role. From there certain things were brought into the sexual field as we got to know each other better. One thing I found very exciting about him was that I never had to tell him what my fantasies were and to please do them to me. I don’t go for setting up rules ahead of time. Little by little he kept doing certain things and saw that I responded very well. And of course, one thing led to another—bondage, water sports, we talked about fisting. Little by little, things were tried. I was very excited by them. I did have fantasies about them and built up a certain confidence each time certain things were done to me. At first, if he bound me, I would always try to keep a certain amount of movement so I could get out. Of course, now it’s gotten to the point where I trust him, and it doesn’t matter. But this trust was built up, since I was not into this kind of scene before and never trusted anybody to that degree. I never let myself go.
When you met him, you were somewhat of a novice?
A complete novice.
But he wasn’t.
No, he’s been doing it for years.
And this is what you’ve been looking for?
Right. What I’m looking for is a relationship. I’m not looking to go to a bar and be bound or beat or fisted and then left. I am looking to build a foundation with someone.
Do you think that all relationships—or even sexual encounters—are governed by a dominant-submissive pattern?
To an extent, yes. But with certain people it’s not important to put what they do under categories—S or M or whatever. But certain people also need to have that feeling of dominance or that feeling of submissiveness.
Have you thought about why you have this need?
Actually, I’ve become aware of something only very recently, and I haven’t really thought it out completely. I find Carl similar to—I associate him with—my father and certain ways my father used to treat me. When he would finally get mad at me, he would show his anger, and then right away he would reward me. He’d feel guilty for showing his anger.
Would he strike you?
No, he would never hit me. My mother would always hit us. He would just yell and scream. I really wanted my father to hold me, love me, kiss me, but he never did.
So hitting you would have at least been a substitute for that?
Right. The same thing is true here, with Carl.
He just hits you? He never holds you and hugs you?
Oh yes. Afterward.
Is that one of the ways you relate pleasure to pain?
I think it’s more complex than that. I find pain more of a challenge. I see it more like two men in combat, two men in an arena fighting. One, of course, is giving it, and one is taking it. I’ve learned to take pain and to build my tolerance up to it. I never give in. I always ask for more, which excites him. I’ve learned to take a lot—a tremendous amount.
How is the pain inflicted?
With a wide leather belt. I can take it to a point where I think I can’t take it anymore, and then I can switch it off. I seem to have no feeling.
So, like some mystics, you’ve learned to master your body through your mind.
Yes, I have done that.
And you do this because it gives him pleasure—and because you prove your…
Masculinity.
To him and to yourself?
Yes, to both of us.
And this is what I wanted to do with my father—prove my masculinity to him and be worthy of his love?
Yes. Also, I know that Carl cares for me and loves me. I know there’s a certain limit that he is aware of, and that he will stop when he reaches it. But I try to push him further, to challenge him… You see, there’s something very important to me here. This is the first time that I have a man who finds me extremely sexually exciting. I never had that in my life before. I’ve always either groveled after men or tried to seduce them to get my pleasure. I have a man now who can look at me and get excited. It turns me on, and I’ll do anything for that feeling, to keep it. And I want him to beat me harder because I don’t want him to look anywhere else to find that
satisfaction. And that’s answering the question about pain and pleasure. I’m taking my pain because I’m getting pleasure out of it.
So each time he beats you, he expresses his need for you and affirms your own value to him.
Right, and I also need him very much.
And when he beats you, you feel more attractive?
Yes, and I want to work on my body and make sure it’s kept healthy.
You’re more satisfied now when you look at yourself in the mirror than you were before?
Sure.
What about the other big question—humiliation?
That is a very interesting subject and has come out in our sexual response to each other. I think—how can I put this?—I think that in the outside world he has been humiliated and has very strong hostile feelings toward it. I, on the other hand, grew up in an atmosphere of prejudice directed at others. I saw people abused and had to stand by and could not react, could not change those events. I’ve had tremendous feelings of guilt because of it. We have gotten into certain sexual areas where those hostilities on his part have come out, and he has called me names and abused me, and that’s related to my guilt. Am I making sense?
Not completely. You have to be more specific.
Well, he’s a member of a minority group that has been abused. He’s Puerto Rican.
He’s Peurto Rican, and you’re…
Jewish.
And have you experienced humiliation in your life because you’re Jewish?
Very rarely.
Not to the extent he has felt it as a Puerto Rican?
Right.
And you have seen Puerto Ricans being abused?
Yes, by Jews, by my father, in the garment industry.
So, your father’s presence in your relationship with Carl is even greater than what you acknowledged before.
I guess it is.
And when Carl abuses you, are you somehow taking the place of those Puerto Ricans and also expiating for the sins of your fellow Jews?
No—for myself, for my own guilt.
Because you weren’t able to do anything about it?
Right. We’ve gotten into name-calling. He calls me names, and I provoke him. I want that. It’s very sexual and very exciting. It all came about very spontaneously. We never planned it. It just worked out that way. It has not been as important recently as when we first started, but it’s still there.
And afterward he shows you affection?
Well, he’s not a man who’s very affectionate. It doesn’t happen very often. It’s not something that’s consistent, that I know I’m going to get.
Do you think that if he were more consistently affectionate that that would diminish the sexual excitement?
No. I honestly believe that. I mean, the most exciting thing about him, what I love most, is that he can be totally sadistic while beating me and then just pick me up in his arms and carry me all the way down the hallway to the bedroom and make love to me.
Do you feel like a child sometimes with him?
Lately more than ever. I’m conscious of that, extremely so.
Wasn’t your last lover also Puerto Rican?
Yes. My former lover and all my important affairs have been Puerto Rican.
So this man is about as close to the ideal as one could be for you.
Yes. As I said, when I met him I was in a very down period. He came along, and it was like a shock and it was like a challenge to me. And I decided to write about it. I had almost never written anything before, but this time I kept writing and writing. I have four notebooks full.
Could you pick out something you like, or that you consider particularly significant?
Well, there is a poem that I wrote after the first weekend we spent together. It was the weekend that I was working for my man, taking care of him in every way possible. That’s what I wanted to write about—those three days of total submission, of total selfless service. I know that one of my needs is a need to please and to do for somebody, and I get tremendous pleasure from doing for him. That includes cooking, cleaning, and all the rest. But I couldn’t have done it for anybody else, because he was fulfilling my sexual needs as well.
What I’m reading here is not about cooking.
No, it’s about what happened one night at about nine or ten o’clock. I was told to follow him. I was taken onto the beach, which he had already surveyed earlier that day without my knowing it. He had found this very big, long log, about eight feet long, with a large spike coming out of the top of it. He always carried a chain, which he sometimes put around my neck or around my crotch. This time, when we reached the log, he tightened the chain around one wrist then around the other, and then wrapped the chain around the spike. There was a hole in the log, and he put the chain through that, too. I had absolutely no way of freeing myself without the help of somebody else. I was bound face down with hands and legs spread out in front of him. This was the first time that I was beaten, whipped, with a tremendous amount of pain, pleasure.
Were you frightened?
Yes, very frightened. It was the first time that I felt completely helpless and completely within his control. I did not scream, as I remember. And since then, as I said, I’ve learned to take pain like a man.
Let’s read the passage from the poem that deals with that scene.
I rebelled the first afternoon.
Not until evening did the heavens open up
to allow lightning to strike its savage blows.
Chains ripped through wrists
in ice cold flashes of intolerance.
There was no escape from the thick blackness
that came crashing down through the night.
Its shadow struck heavy blows
of passion from every side.
All oxygen was smashed out of my lungs
till I was unconscious and death was approaching.
Just in time my executioner
reached down,
wrapping his arms and body
tightly around mine.
I was gasping for life.
He opened my mouth and gave
life back to me.
I’ve been reborn.
This time around I belong to him.
I’m born in his image.
This says a lot.
Yes, it says more than I could have said then, or now. That’s why I wrote it.
wrote it.
You describe coming close to a limit, to crossing a line.
Yes, but I don’t think I wanted to die. I think it was more the idea of giving up something of myself to be reborn or take on a new identity.
Do you see it now as a kind of initiation rite?
I never thought of it that way.
Do you still like to think of him as a god, as your creator, your father?
Yes and no. I have looked at him as my father, my god, a creator, but every time I’ve tried to turn that fantasy into something real, I’ve always found out that he is also a man.
Was that a disappointment?
Yes.
But you were saying before that you want his affection and warmth. Well, those are human qualities.
Yes, I want that too.
But you’re disappointed when you see his weaknesses, his fears, and limitations?
Yes.
And you want him to be perfect?
As much as he wants me to be perfect.
Don’t you find that perfection somewhat inhuman?
Yes. There are a lot of contradictions in what I’m saying. My disappointment comes when I’ve lost reality and tried to live his dream as reality. I love the man and want the relationship with the man, not with the god. Deep down, it’s very exciting to have these fantasies and lose this reality, but deep down, too, I want to hold on to my man. I want that love. I want that affection.
So, ultimately, his perfection should appear only at certain moments.
Yes, and I want to be the man he wants me to be.
That keeps coming back in what you say, the idea of proving your manhood.
I never seemed to have to prove it before. Now I do. I have to prove it to him.
Do you think that has any relation to your being gay? Nobody has called you names or humiliated you about that?
It could have happened. It probably has, but nothing that was very traumatic in my life. There could be something unconscious, of course.
Do you still feel reborn?
At that time I did, and afterward too.
I detect some disillusionment in your voice. Have you tired of the scene in any way?
I can’t say that I’ve been disillusioned, because I have not really been involved in the S-and-M scene outside my own scene. I’ve only seen a bit of it with him. He’s more involved in it than I am.
Have you been out to the bars together?
Yes. We have gotten into exhibitionism in certain clubs in the city. He wanted it, and I went along, but I’ve had mixed feelings about it.
You’re into leather.
Yes, yes. He’s very interested in leather, the proper use of it, where to use it, the care of it.
There’s a fairly rigid code associated with leather.
Right. A lot of people don’t know that, are not aware of it, as I was not. There’s a whole formal set of rules about what to wear and what not to wear, how to wear it. Then, of course, each person’s standards are different, as with everything else.
Do you also like uniforms?
Yes. What I feel most comfortable in and enjoy is a policeman’s uniform, especially riot police or motorcycle police, with helmet, high boots, and breeches. He gets excited seeing me dressed like that.
I can understand why—a policeman in the role of a slave. But what about you? Does that also connect with the guilt feelings you mentioned before?
I don’t know if I can get into that right now. But there are other things. I mean, what I like best is the fact that you can’t just walk into a store—into Bloomingdale’s or Macy’s—and say, I’d like one policeman’s uniform. It takes time, unless you want to buy a uniform off somebody. To put together all the little pieces—the different shirts and the emblems—you have to do a lot of investigation; you have to be a little bit humiliated in trying to find out how you can buy these items. What I enjoyed most was putting it all together, which took me a year, and then seeing his face when he walked in and saw me in it, and having him so sexually turned on by it.
Are you turned on by policemen?
Most policemen in the city I don’t find sexually attractive, although I could get into a whole thing with Carl in that police context. And then, I have had fantasies about having sex with policemen—in the plural. Sucking them off in the barracks or something like that.
When I was growing up, the first man who talked to me about sex was a motorcycle policeman.
Well!
I was about fourteen or fifteen. My father was too embarrassed to talk about it, so he asked this man—who was a close friend—to do it. He was very attractive and used to come to the house a lot in uniform. One day he talked to me and a friend and asked us what we did together.
Were you doing something together?
Yes, but I don’t remember what we told him.
So you were frightened and excited at the same time.
It’s very interesting that this relationship with Carl has a lot to do with feelings and experiences I had when I was growing up in my teens. In fact, I was arrested in Lover’s Lane with a kid when I was eighteen. We were picked up by the police, but they were plainclothesmen. At the time, when they came over to the car, I didn’t think they were policemen. One of them had alcohol on his breath. I had just finished reading The Sixth Man, which was very popular at the time, and so I became kind of a know-it-all and started asking for their identification. But the kid I was with got very “yes sir, no sir,” you know—very frightened and submissive. And so we were taken down to the police station. First, they questioned us in separate rooms. I had read in the book you never admit to anything, so I said absolutely nothing. They told me that the other kid had said everything about what we did. So they called our parents, but of course only my parents came down. They said they couldn’t get in touch with his. They had called mine because I was a wise guy.
Your parents must have been very upset.
True. They didn’t know how to handle it at first. What I was wearing was kind of gay—tight pants and a short jacket. When I got home, my parents told me to throw the clothes out because I looked like a queer. So I just ripped them into shreds and threw them to the bottom of the stairs in front of their bedroom. When my younger sister came down and asked my parents why my clothes were ripped up, they said that I looked too much like a hood, not that I looked queer.
So, in a sense, you’ve put those clothes back together again.
Yes.
And you’ve reshaped the past.
Yes, and I made something special.
And that wasn’t easy.
No. One thing I thought I would never be able to do was to have a fist inside of me. It was very painful and took a long time to get into. But recently, this man, my master, has brought me to the height of passion, of total release, total giving, and has brought me to orgasms just by the manipulation of his hand. The pleasure has been unbelievable. I’ve never had such pleasure as that.
What about him?
It seems to be a very important part of our relationship, especially for him. He seems to have a great need for it, and he has said so. He has not said 100 percent that it has to be with me.
What do you mean?
He said that if I could not fulfill that need for him, it could be done with a third person.
Where does that put you?
I would watch.
And you would enjoy that?
No, I would not. I’d rather have it done to me. But things have changed. There’s a problem now. I mean, I had an accident a few months ago. I ruptured my intestine with a large dildo.
Ruptured it?
Yes.
Were you with him when it happened?
No, I was alone. It was the day after we had had a wild scene, and I was thinking about it. I didn’t realize what I had done until many hours later. Then I waited a few more hours, not wanting to do anything, until I had to be rushed to emergency. I had a four-hour operation.
A very dangerous one.
Oh, yes. Peritonitis had set in.
Are you back in shape now?
No. They performed a colostomy, so I have to return for a second operation in another few days.
What about Carl? Have you seen him?
Yes.
Have you had sex with him?
Mildly, yes. But what’s important is that I reached the point where I told him I didn’t want to see him anymore.
What was his reaction to that?
If that was what I wished, he would abide by it.
Doesn’t this suggestion about a third person represent an effort to make an accommodation?
I suppose it does.
But you’re afraid.
There are several things. During the last few weeks before the accident happened, it seemed that I was giving my whole self up, that I was becoming totally obsessed with him and was wanting more than I was getting. But I couldn’t get it, and I couldn’t get out of it.
You wanted more of him and more pleasure?
Yes, both those things. I also thought that when I came to the point of wanting more, or of being frightened, he would be there to help me.
That’s assuming there’s another point to go to.
Well, I did have death wishes, death fantasies. They came very close in those last few weeks. I thought of the chain around my neck and having him pull it tighter and tighter until we reached orgasm. It was never tight enough. But now I want to live, and I want to associate him with living, not with death. Still, I want to give him the opportunity to get out of it... What I’m trying to say is that I’m scared of the future. Before, I had no fear of dying, and now I’m frightened of myself.
And of what you still desire?
Right. I know what I want. I do want it again. I do want to feel those feelings again. But I also don’t want to get hurt again, and if I do, I want him to look after me next time.
Didn’t he look after you this time?
Yes, but I think—I know—that his first commitment is to his lover. What’s funny is that the night it happened, it was my ex-lover who came for me and took me to the hospital. I’ve learned that you can’t rely on anybody, that there’s no one you can truly trust except yourself and some old friends, like my ex-lover. But when it comes to love and passion, you really have to pull yourself together and get it from within. That’s where the ultimate power is.
Earlier you said that things were better now than ever, but “now” must have been then, before the accident.
Yes, I guess that’s what I meant.
So, in that respect, you seem to be in a kind of limbo, somewhere between the past and the future, or as you said, between fear and desire.
That’s right. That’s where I am. I’m waiting to see what will happen—with him and with myself. But I do want a relationship, a relationship that grows, and a little ease.
What?
A little ease.
Ease. ❡
