Another never-before-posted story from many years ago—1988, in fact, which is what it's postmarked. That's almost thirty years ago, and it describes an experience that took place almost 25 years before that, before Stonewall and gay liberation, when few dared even whisper that they were homosexual, and the word "gay" was only beginning to enter the general vocabulary with its current meaning.
August 5, 1988
HOLLYWOOD, FL. I have been playing this game for 35 years—and have had a “couple” experiences, if you know what I mean.
One you might get a laugh out of happened in 1964 in Chicago. My cock still had a mind of its own, and when it heard someone talk about bondage it would stand up right away.
I had called a fellow about sharing an apartment and he asked me if I was gay. I said yes and he said that was “O.K.” but he wasn’t! That was ok with me, too! Well, as it turned out, I found my own place. In the meantime, this fellow had called me back, and asked me to come by and “just look” at his place, “in case.” I told him I didn’t see any reason for that.
The next Sunday morning he called me, and seemed a little upset and asked me if I could come by and just talk for a few minutes. He was only 6-7 blocks away so I said ok. When I got there and met him, I was thinking it was too bad he wasn’t gay and that I wasn’t sharing a place with him. He was a nice looking fellow, 58-60, and had a very nice apartment.
Well, he offered me coffee, and started telling me how some fellow had called him about sharing the apartment, The fellow said he worked late (till 10 PM) and would it be ok if he had his brother-in-law pick him up at work, and then come by Saturday night to look at the place. I have to say I would have said yes, too, without a second thought. Well, of course, here come two guys Saturday night, they have a gun, and make this fellow strip, and tie and gag him on the living room floor, and help themselves to anything and everything they can carry out to their car.
He is telling me this, and I am loving every word of it, when he stops and asks me, “What’s wrong?” I had no idea what he was talking about. Then he points at my crotch, and here was this thing hard as a rock, and trying to get out of my pants and underwear so it could HEAR better.
At that point I was embarrassed having such a heart-on in front of this “straight” fellow. At least I had told him I was gay. So I went on to tell him that I liked being tied up when I played with a guy. I didn’t watch the clock, but I think it was within the next 15 minutes that I was stripped to my union suit and stockings and bound with the same bindings that had been used on him the night before.
This was the start of 3-5 years of meetings, sometimes three a week.
We only had one more party at his place. It came the next week, and he had just finished trussing me up when the bell rang. Three or four of his lady friends stopped by for coffee, and… To this day I wonder who would have been the most shocked and embarrassed had one of them opened the bedroom door and seen this guy in underwear all tied up!
Anyway, from then on we played at my place. And this fellow had two things that made him “different.” At the time I figured I was the only “different one.” I loved long underwear, and enjoyed being tied up. How crazy can a person be? Well, anyway, this fellow, every time we played, told me he wasn’t gay—I could have cared less. We sure had a ball. And he would never take any of his clothes off, not even his shoes, till I was securely bound. And after we played he would be dressed and ready to walk out the door before he even untied me. Of course I have to admit I enjoyed the humiliation of being bound and helpless in the presence of someone dressed and in control of me.
Well, so much for some very happy but confused years of my life.
how did the first man, bound and gagged by robbers get free?
i also have a long underwear fetish.
love a man in tight long johns or unionsuit rope tied and thickly bandana gagged
good old fashioned classic tying and gagging!
Bob replies: I have no idea how the first man got free, but he obviously did, eventually, and lived to tell about it. As I write in the intro to the story, I received it in 1988 and didn't come across it to post here until 2016, almost 30 years later. The guy was already quite old when he wrote to me (I did publish several other letters from him in the magazine) and we lost contact many years ago. Sorry.
Posted by: joe h | April 04, 2020 at 05:48 PM