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384                                     Jack Fritscher, Ph.D.
               Because the reality was he hung helpless, tied and hoisted, not by
            Superman, but by another quite ordinary man who had the will, inclina-
            tion, and hardon to string him up.
               Torture. He repeated the word five or six times. Rolling it in his
            mouth. “Please torture me.”
               What a man-with-a-hardon says, especially in night-games, needs
            subtitles. “Torture me” means “Give me heavy sensation on my body.”
            There is no real torture and no real pain and no real humiliation in ritual.
            It is suggestion more than reality. But the truth is you can play plenty hard
            without physical damage. Without a mark. Heavy is measured by sensual
            and mutual respect for limits.
               When a man contracts with a consenting man for a heavy trip, the
            possibilities begin as basic as clamps on his tits, balls, and cock. All the
            obvious places. Then a few not so obvious: in a circle around his asshole
            as foreplay to fisting, on both his lips and his tongue, across his eyebrows,
            and in his nose. If a guy lives in his head, use his head. The clamps and
            clothes pins get his attention. His hardon holds his interest.
               In this way Thumper hung, treated with the great respect due a man,
            but worked over. Heavy. In a delicate balance.

            Working over straight guys is a whole other trip. I’ve topped several
            because movies like Rollerball, The Holy Mountain, and Marathon Man
            raise the ritual fantasy-consciousness in their hetero heads. Richard Har-
            ris, hanging by his pecs in A Man Called Horse, all for the love of a girl,
            awoke an “endurance hunger” in quite a few completely straight guys.
            They wanted their own personal rite of passage, their own initiation into
            adult masculinity, in our society that has never definitely signaled when
            a boy is definitely a man.
               Mostly these dudes were macho athletic types. To the ones I agreed
            to conduct through ritual passage, I indicated they had to mutualize the
            energy by putting out sexually. So hungry were they for a safe experience
            they knew no other way to satisfy, they each in their own turn agreed.
               For their head’s sake I kept their sexual involvement fairly passive by
            simply fucking the shit out of them near the end of the scene. Jocks, used
            to hard coaching, seem the most susceptible to this kind of man-to-man
            ritual sexuality. Trained to accept the orders of another man, they follow
            those orders at even the greatest hardship and pain to themselves in order
            to make the team. They are ripe and ready to deal with a masculine Top
            who will modify his gayness to accommodate their needs while still satis-
            fying his own. And these men are truly sexually straight. It’s just that for

          ©Jack Fritscher, Ph.D., All Rights Reserved—posted 05-05-2017
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