Booger Red & Cowboy
Waddie Greywolf

This is a work of homoerotic fiction based on an amalgam of real characters I’ve encountered in my sojourn in this world.  It deals with the concept of Master/slave relationships.  It's not your usual Master/salve story.  Here you will find no sadistic, uncaring, cold, self-centered, egocentric Masters.  You won’t find abused, fearful, subhuman slaves groveling for crumbs from his Master’s table.

What you will find is a group of real men, living real lives that happen to find clearly defined, strictly adhered to, distinct  separation of roles between two men a positive and necessary thing for a strong, bonded, enduring relationship.

It’s my contention, mostly based on personal experience,  that homosexuality is practiced in rural settings, under the noses of unsuspecting folks,  far more frequently than researchers and the general public would like to concede. Not every man who prefers another man to share his bed will be the church organist of a small town. Many are the most common of folk with masculine appearance and attitudes.

They will go to great lengths to protect their privacy and ultimately their love for each other.  Some will be bisexual, marry, have children while carrying on a life long sexual relationship with their ‘fishing buddy.’  It has nothing to do with closets.  It has to do with survival within a small rural community were everyone makes it their business to know everyone else’s business.

The mere suspicion of so called deviant behavior from the narrow minded norm is most times enough to destroy even the strongest of personalities.

Rural folk who appreciate man-sex  fit in well and sometimes had ties with the subculture of the nomadic biker types. These bikers were a breed apart from the gay community as well as the straight community. Those that were gay or prone to that life style rarely went to a gay bar.  They would from time to time but didn’t see that kind of socialization as a means to an end. (no pun intended)

How did the concept of Master/slave relationships within this subculture group evolve and why? Sexual preference rarely entered these men’s minds. If it had a pulse, was breathing, and held still long enough, it got fucked.  For this reason and because they didn’t feel like living within the rules of ‘polite society,’ when they wanted sex they didn’t want to play a lot of games to get their rocks off.

They wanted to be able to drop their pants, snap their fingers and be serviced by either of the slave’s holes in a matter of minutes. Spending most of their time on the road, it was easier to have a male companion. Originally, it had little to do with affection; it was all about convenience in a nomadic society.

If you were family, no one said a thing.  It didn’t mean you were exempt from some pretty ruthless razzing from your buddies. I actually knew a guy that rode a pig in his side car with goggles, aviator hat, and scarf. Even the worst of the outlaw biker groups had a handful of Master/slave relationships. There again, if you were recognized as family you were accepted.

Most of these men were dominant, demanding, and for lack of a better term alpha-male types. They had little time or interest in the typical game playing found in ‘gay romantic’ intrigue.  They didn’t want to waste their time on courting another man to be their sub.  Most saw it as an endless treadmill  you could pour your life and emotions into with little guarantee of success.  They decided, there had to be a better way.

They created male slaves for themselves. It wasn’t arrived at accidentally.  It had a long, slow sociological evolvement.  At first it came about by brute force.  If you want to live you’ll be my slave and provide for my needs.   “Me Tarzan, you gonna’ be Jane whether you like it or not!”

If you were ‘lucky’ enough to be chosen by one of these men and he took the time to beat you into submission he did everything he could to protect and hold on to his investment.  If you tried to escape you would be hunted down, be dealt with so severely  you wouldn’t consider running again, and then returned to your recognized owner.  Any affection derived from one of these  relationships would adequately fit the definition of Stockholm syndrome.

The problem with this type relationship was the sub was reduced to a fearful, shrinking, sub-human character who responded only from mental or physical threats.  There was little sense of comradery or affection which all human beings need. Time period involved: thirties, through the early fifties. (The echos of this myth were carried well into the eigthies by pseudo Master/slave relationships within the gay leather community.)

As time passed these groups developed inroads into ‘polite’ society with people who straddled the fence between complete social drop outs and employables that made enough money to dabble in the fantasy.  It became easier with a wider base of society to choose from,  to seduce young men with no inroads to either, into the world of personal slavery by representing it as a great romantic adventure. ‘ Let’s you and me go play pirates, I’ll be Captain Morgan and you be my matey!  Har!’

How did they hold these young men when the harsher realities of their lifestyle became evident?  They simply had them neutered.  Most of the time their slaves underwent penectomy as well as castration. The young men were never forced into being neutered.  They were sold a dream that was a ticket to get them there. The idea being, this practice created a strong physical and  psychological dependancy bond between the partners.

Needless to say it had it’s drawbacks. The neutered slave’s hormonal levels were in a constant state of flux, the slave usually became disinterested in sex and eventually became resentful of being conned into throwing their manhood away for a song and dance.  The original romantic ideal would quickly fade to worse than  mundane.

Surprisingly, a few of these relationships worked out and were long term.  A greater majority did not.  Understandably, most of the castoff slaves lived out their lives in bitterness and disappointment. Time period involved: thankfully, a brief period of approximately ten years from the late forties to the late fifties.

With the sixties came new found personal, economic, spiritual, and sexual freedoms.  If it wasn't for Vietnam the sixties would have been one of the greatest decades in our history to live in.  Perhaps without the war the sixties would never have happened like it did.  The idea of more free time and personal freedoms caused  more and more people to become interested in the ‘escape’ a motorcycle represented and along with that the biker image.

It came to represent the ultimate idea of freedom.  Where did all the cowboys go?  They traded in their horses for horsepower.  Harley-Davidson horsepower. With this influx of larger sections of society came broader ranges of intellect, education levels, and a more modern approach to this problem.

Added to this milieu, in the sixties through mid seventies were the Vietnam veterans who came home demoralized, disenfranchised, unable to cope with trying to fit into a society that seemed cold and uncaring.  They had gone through the bowels of hell for what?  Only to come home to a minimum wage job earning barely enough to survive let alone try to have a family.  Many gave up and saw the road as a means to stay one step ahead of their pain and disillusionment.  They  never stopped long enough to think or feel.

With the quasi-liberation of the homosexual the stigma of same sex relationships became somewhat more accepted by society.  There developed a new paradigm of  Master/slave relationships that was far more successful and wide ranging in its appeal.  It became so successful at one time there were  large ‘family groups’ who rode with and supported this new ideal of male bonding.

While it was still predicated on the concept of one man owning another as his personal property it shared many ideas of straight marriages prior to 1900, where the man was the final word in a relationship.  Women were seen to play a subordinate roll, while loving, honoring, and obeying her husband. Women were not allowed to vote and had little say in society. Substitute the word ‘Master’ for ‘husband,’ ‘wife’ for ‘male slave’ and you have a close analogy.

Where would the men find one of these male slaves?  They had to be created from men who wanted that kind of lifestyle for themselves.  If accepted they would be trained and imprinted. It was based on training a man in basic social manners and considerations that are noticeably lacking in our society today.

These manners were not far from everyday manners folks should use with one another but rarely do.  Of course the training was geared toward showing respect for a  Master. Perhaps that was the key element in the transforming a man into a ‘slave’ was teaching him age old manners and respect for someone he wished to love and serve.  The British did it for years. Watch an episode of Upstairs/Downstairs.  We show kings, queens (real ones), congressmen, senators, religious leaders, teachers, law enforcement, etc. the respect and manners due their station.  Why wouldn’t we show the same courtesy to someone we respect and love?

Training involved mental conditioning  and imprinting.  Pavlovian, ‘Manchurian Candidate’, reward and punishment, mental conditioning.  Shades of Orwell, Huxley, and Dick? Not really! It was more like Marine boot camp with a Dungeon Master for a DI.  

This training and imprinting was carried out by rogue (if you want to consider them that way.) professionals in the mental health fields; psychiatrist, psychologist, therapist and social workers.  They were skilled professionals who dropped out and became fascinated with the shaping and recreation of an individual.  Still, it existed under the term ‘slavery’ but had transmuted into something altogether different from the idea of a sadistic, selfish, cold, uncaring Master and the miserable subordinate.

This group of men are not to be confused with the archetypical gay Master/salve relationships found in the gay leather/biker crowd of metropolitan cities where any queen with enough money to buy a bike, a leather jacket and a pair of zip-up beetle boots announces to the world,

“We have become--a ‘Master!’”

Some have enough income to afford a bike which they use to travel from one gay bar to another. Their idea of ‘bike runs’ deteriorated into nothing more than moving a gay bar to an outside setting and traveling to and from. This type is highly influenced by popular homoerotic publications such as the defunct ‘Drummer’ magazines and their clones.  These rags perpetuate the misguided belief that something closely resembling  a living hell for a subordinate is or should be sexually and emotionally fulfilling to the slave.

The 'Master' is portrayed as a cold, tyrannical, heartless, ruggedly handsome, God-like character, expecting his volunteer slave, who is portrayed as a fawning, androgynous, subhuman, loathsome creature,  to accept the crumbs from his table and bits and pieces of his affection, if any.  They are forced to cope with inhuman living conditions with little or no reward for good behavior; however, made to suffer strict and harsh punishment for the smallest of infractions.

Meanwhile, ‘Fi-fi,’ the toy poodle sleeps on a comfortable bed and eats only gourmet foods. A strange conundrum!  That kind of fiction is, at best, the ticket for an evening of one fisted reading but the reality is, very few can live it 24/7.  Oh really?  You say you’re living it 24/7?   Well, good for you,---you just proved anything’s possible; however, that’s why I included this paragraph.  This book isn’t about you anyway.

After a couple of years of abusing men dumb enough to go home with him, the same queen mentioned above decides he should share his wealth of knowledge with the world.  He writes his own personal Master/slave manifesto as to how it should be.  I collect them from the internet and have to date thirty-six different manifestos.

Unbelievable shit!   I  read them thinking what kind of person or mind could come up with this crap. Oh well, they’re good for a laugh. I ‘ve come to believe it is possible the fantasy of being a slave to a man, who could easily fit most therapist’s definitions of a sociopath, may be the  ultimate atonement for homosexual guilt? 

Granted, there were men who were considered from the gay community who volunteered for slavery and a few were accepted.  If they were accepted, trained, then bought by a good Master within a larger family group, they  never went back to their previous existence in the gay community.

After volunteering, if accepted,  before being trained and imprinted, they  dropped out and their gay friends never heard from them again.  Most gay men backed out after they learned it was for real, it wasn’t ‘dress up-play like’ and required a life time commitment.  The term ‘old guard’ would’ve sent them into gales of laughter,...either that or you’d get your ass kicked by a slave that thought you were suggesting their Master was over the hill.

Isn’t slavery in our country illegal? Of course it is but these men were a law unto themselves and slavery charges were hard to prosecute when slaves were thoroughly imprinted to love and respect their Masters.  Attempts at getting a slave,  conditioned to be loyal to his Master,  to testify against him was impossible.  There’s little prosecution against cult groups for the same reasons.
 
This is a story of some of these men. It is not a Master/slave manifesto.  It is a work of fiction based on true stories and experiences of people I rode with over the years.   Real people who lived these relationships successfully.  In this story you will meet the leaders and several members of a biker group, the family Clan Mc Innis.  They were the moving force behind a group of some three hundred bikers at one time.

They were composed of straight, gay, bisexual, animals, and whatevers, that lived by a code unto themselves.  They practiced it, lived by it and enforced it within their group by peer pressure and a deep sense of family unity. They were proud, intelligent, caring, men capable of great love for their brothers and slaves.

They didn’t feel it was unmasculine to show overt love for each other with hugging and kissing. These men were that way.  They had genuine love and affection for each other and weren’t afraid to show it. Neither were they afraid nor found it unmasculine to occasionally refer to each other using terms of endearment found to be such an anathema to certain leather fairies masquerading as Masters insecure with their own self image and masculinity.

They could be ruthlessly honest, generous, compassionate, forgiving, and loving;  however,  no one nor any topic was safe from their humor.  At times, they could be painfully funny. They were not boy scouts. Sometimes they could be ruthlessly brutal and destructive if fucked with.  Most times they kept to themselves and were considerate of others.
 
The modern outlaw biker would either find a man who wanted to sub for them as their slave or they bought a male slave from one of several slave trainers who were set up especially for this purpose. These slave trainers would carefully select from  male volunteers who wanted to become a man’s slave.  These men were thoroughly screened and advised of the life they might be living as the slave of one of these men.

The potential slaves were not lied to nor given a line of bull shit that painted a rosey picture to con them into a decision to enter slavery.   They were thoroughly informed and required to sign acknowledgment statements they were told of all the ramifications. It was thoroughly explained to every potential slave trainee that this was not a ‘try and see if you like it’ situation.  They were made to understand, once they were trained and imprinted they would be a slave to another man for life. They would never be happy being anything else.

These men were not joking.  To produce a male slave who would fill the requirements of these men they had to start with raw material they were pretty damn sure they could work with.  It was a large investment in time and money. Therefore, it was to their benefit and their ultimate success to be brutally honest with a man they might be considering for training.

If a male volunteer was found acceptable as slave material, they would be carefully and systematically trained and imprinted to become a male slave. Once they were thoroughly imprinted to think as a slave there was no returning to normal society.  A slave was trained how best to be a partner for their Master, to make his experience the best, and most enjoyable they possibly could. Their only purpose was to serve their Master and see to his comfort.

When the training Masters were satisfied a man was ready,  the newly trained slave would be put on the market and sold to become the personal property of one of these men. They remained slaves for life. Once a man agreed, signed all the documents, and dissolved his former life, there was no turning back.

No one knew what to expect of training but once they started the process they were never allowed to back out.  Most looked upon the training as the greatest spiritual awakening and emotional high they ever experienced.  It was structured, demanding, and grueling but not all the time.  Many asked their Masters to let them repeat training after several years together.  They were that taken with the process. I won’t go into particulars here as parts of this story explores training and conditioning in detail.

No one was coerced nor strong armed into becoming a slave with one exception.  While it was possible to forcibly train and imprint an unwilling man into slavery it was rarely done because the end product was not always desirable; however, it was done occasionally as punishment to one of their own if he was an incorrigible son of a bitch that continually wreaked havoc and mayhem on everyone with no conscience.  He would be warned numerous times and told if he remained in the group and continued his sociopathic behavior, he would be forcibly corrected.

A secret meeting would be held and if enough voted for his correction, he received the ultimate attitude adjustment- he became a slave. I know of only a couple of situations in which that occurred.  One in particular where the Master would get drunk and beat the holy crap out of his slave for no reason.

His slave loved him and made excuses for him until one night he almost killed the kid but another biker stepped in and stopped him.  The family took the kid and hid him. They had to forcibly detain him. He still wanted to go back to his Master.  The son of a bitch was directly responsible for murdering three people and tried to gun down the man who stopped him from killing his slave.  The police couldn’t do anything because there wasn’t enough proof of the murders.  The family took care of him.

Was their training that effective? Bet your ass it was!  Some of the roughest, hell on wheels, mean ass mother fuckers, were turned into passive, submissive, quiet, obedient slaves for a good Master and  never returned to their old ways. Even the roughest, meanest ones that considered themselves totally heterosexual would become, boot licking, cock sucking, butt fucked slaves.

At the mere snap of their Master’s fingers, either hole was presented  for his use without hesitation or question. If a slave of this type failed to be imprinted or couldn’t be bonded with a Master, removal of his genitals usually solve the problem.  The mere threat of being nulloed went a long way toward insuring the most hard core hellion was gentled and bonded.

These men played for keeps.  Only a couple dared tried to stretch their patience to the limit.  They became the examples that were kept in check by a hard charging, demanding, uncompromising, jack-boot disciplinarian Master.  Their example served as a warning to other sociopaths to shape up or ship out.
 
You say no one could be conditioned, imprinted or trained to completely change their original nature?  The Marine Corps does it every day. Religious cults are devilishly clever at it. (pun intended)  Look into the eyes of a passionate, born again, right wing fundamentalist and read the “vacant lot” sign inside their head.. It is extremely difficult to de-program a ‘true believer.’  Talk to anyone who’s tried to de-program a cultist. Fanaticism for religious or political reasons is the single greatest threat to this nation and individual freedom.

De-programing a slave was never accomplished that I know of.  First of all you have to approach the de-programming as if being a slave was an undesirable thing. Once a slave became bonded with his Master he was usually happy and content. If he performed well and took good care of his Master they became an integral part of their Master’s life.  They were expected to become an extension of their Master.

Since they agreed to give up their previous lives to become a slave then they would be trained to become what their Master wanted and needed.  Most volunteered in the first place because that’s what they wanted to become.  It would be damn near impossible to change a well trained, properly imprinted slave.
   
Many avowed straight men who insisted on riding with their ‘old ladies’ were exposed to the ease and comradeship of their buddies who owned male slaves.  Masters who rode with male slaves never had to cajole their partner into sex. They never had to beg, plead, nor promise things to get some. They never had to worry about periods or the mood of their slave.

A well trained, bonded slave would never consider using sex as a weapon. Withholding sex from their Master was practically unheard of.  More than a few straight men dumped their ‘old ladies,’ jumped the fence and after they owned their own male slave for a while,  wondered why they hadn’t done it long before.
               
A good, well trained slave was not looked down on nor demeaned.  If they performed well for their Masters they became objects of great pride and affection. In most situations they became life partners to their Masters.

A good slave became as important to the family group as a good Master.  Thus, it was a natural result the family saw to it their slaves were not abused. Masters formed deep emotional bonds with their slaves and vice versa which only encouraged their slaves to take better care of their Masters. The bonds that developed between these men were some of the strongest relationships I’ve experienced and many lasted for years. After all, there was no such thing to consider as ‘divorce rate.’

If a Master owned a man and he continued to be of use to him he kept him for years. Likewise, if a well trained slave was owned by a good man,  it would never enter his head to leave his Master. That’s not to say if a slave became ill or his Master was unable to ‘use’ him he was dumped or abandoned  so his Master could take on a new slave.  The emotional bonds went too deep.  In all my association with this group I never heard of a Master who had a slave for many years abandoning him because he became ill.   Furthermore, the family as a whole accepted responsibility for their slaves and would never allow that to happen.

There were accepted parameters arrived at by the experience of the training Masters for the length of time it should take a new slave to bond with his Master. In rare cases, where bonding failed and the Master was unhappy with their purchase there was a period of three months the trainers would accept the returned slave and return the Master’s money. The slave was then resold and the Master was free to purchase another if he chose to.

If problems occurred beyond the three months period it was generally the Master’s fault because he didn’t take the time for the personal training period to have his slave bond properly with him.  Even then,  the training Masters would take the slave back with a prorated monthly reduction of the purchase price.  The slave would go through training and imprinting again,  in case the salve’s imprinting might be faulty.  After the second training period there usually was no further problem with the slave.  Most times,  the fault could be traced to the Master being lazy and not performing the personal training necessary for bonding.

The new Master was expected to further train his slave to his personal likes and dislikes; his sexual preferences and apatite.  There were simple, ritualistic training procedures set forth by the training Masters to quickly establish a bond. Then there were simple but effective weekly bonding rituals that had to be performed by the Master to insure a balance and continued service from his slave. These bonding rituals might be compared to the bonding rituals blind people must do with their seeing eye dog.

Once the dog is trained he can perform a great service for his blind master; however, their master must renew his alpha status on a daily basis with simple, ritualistic commands to insure the animal’s continued response.  Contrary to some religious beliefs,  man is an animal as well and responds as effectively as any other animal that can be trained.

There were simple slave to Master greeting rituals that were regularly practiced.   While they were deceptively simple they cleverly reinforced each man’s admission and acceptance of a role in their social order.  It was an effective means of quickly establishing a level of communication.

Now, the question may arise in some minds, were all these Masters outrageously handsome  hunks of pulchritudinous masculinity?  Hardly!  If a man truly wanted the life of a slave to another man he was trained to  accept the man who bought him.  By the end of training, a slave might be sold to the ugliest man in the family, but he was imprinted well enough the looks of his Master was of no consequence.  His only purpose was to serve and please the Master who bought him, regardless.

Some of these men were not pretty men.  To say they were ugly would be a compliment. One would imagine in today’s world of worshiping the young and beautiful a slave would rebel and try to run away if bought by some butt ugly, old man. It rarely happened,---and in those cases where it did happen, the Master either failed to complete the necessary personal training to insure his slave was properly bonded to him or his expectations of his slave was unrealistic.

It was not uncommon for some Masters to require some training on how to be a good Master and maintain a slave for the best interest of both. If the Master completed his slave’s personal training as detailed in the personal training manual the  Masters were given with the purchase of a new slave,  bonding was assured.  Very few slaves failed to bond.

Once the bonding process took, a slave almost never left his Master’s side. If one tried to run, he was always found, never punished, but retrained for free by the training Masters who guaranteed he would never run again.  For performing this service they made sure the Master completed the slaves personal training.  Once accomplished, the slave never tried to run again. 

Sometimes you would find a breathtakingly handsome man riding as slave beside a man whose face would stop a clock at fifty paces; however, the slave would be fiercely loyal to his Master and God help you, if you valued your life,  you should ever refer to his Master as less than a fine looking example of masculinity.  Deep, sometimes unspoken, bonds of affection, mutual respect and admiration were established that lasted a life time. 

It was not uncommon to see a drop dead, handsome, hyper-masculine Master who had a slave riding next to him with a face that only a mother, and his Master, could love.  Didn’t matter to most of them what a slave looked like,  it was how well he served and pleased his Master.

There was a common joke put to every new potential Master who was looking to buy a slave.  “Buy an ugly one, they’ll work harder to please you and nobody wants to steal ‘em from you.”  There again, once bonding took place between Master and slave, the slave became the most handsome man in the world to his Master; as he should be.

These Masters and slaves rode with outlaw groups, straight groups and their own family clans. They came from all walks of life to answer the call of the road. So did their slaves. Once it’s in the blood, it’s hard to shake off. Some got by working temporary jobs to make enough money to get from place to place.

Others were wealthy men who rode to experience the feel of freedom and the excitement of the road.  They formed great bonds with these men because they admired their sense of brotherhood and simple codes they lived by.  They could be quite generous with their family members.  Perhaps that was this group of men’s greatest strength,---their sense of family.  Extended and unconventional without a doubt, but couldn’t that be said for most or our real families.   Henry Miller once wrote, “The truest members of your family may not be born under the same roof.”

Many of these men were social drop outs who may have suffered some great financial or emotional set backs from which there seemed no recovery.  Some probably had been diagnosed as clinically depressed and were trying to out run the clouds of depression.  Some would invest the last of their personal funds on a bike and hit the road. It proved therapeutic for some but for others it was the ultimate escape from pain or accepting responsibility for their lives.

Most never experienced any kind of ‘right of passage’ into manhood.  The necessity of a spiritual and emotional ‘right of passage’ of a man is just now beginning to be understood by modern psychology.  One fact that remains indisputable about our society, except for Jews and American Indians, we are sadly lacking such a right.  That was one of the main messages of Joseph Campbell.  To find your bliss you had to first complete a ‘right of passage.’

During the time period described in these books,  a large percentage of bikers were Vietnam veterans who returned unable to adjust into a society they never were a part of to begin with. Why?  Most had never been further than the next large town from their small town.  They had no concept of getting by in a larger society. They were suspicious of everything and anyone. They were sent to Nam little more than children, were put through the horrors of the damned, demoralized by the county they thought they were fighting for, unappreciated when they returned, guarded about telling anyone they were there, and returned emotional cripples.

They remained as children in the bodies of grown men constantly frustrated by rarely having their adult taken seriously. They, too, were denied their ‘right of passage’ into mature male adulthood.  No one cared enough to take the time to get to know them or try to heal the child within. Almost all I met could fit the profile of immaturity due to arrested development, in most cases, caused by post traumatic stress syndrome.  The only place they felt comfortable was on the road.  They were running from the past, the remembered horrors, lack of acceptance and demoralization by our society.
  
A surprising number of these veterans took a slave and developed tight emotional bonds with them.  They were the lucky ones.  They unwittingly found comfort, compassion, unconditional love and acceptance from their relationship with their slave.  Many found their personal salvation through the love from and for their slave. They grew up by taking the responsibility for owning a slave. A Master in most family groups understood to own a slave was accepting the responsibility for another man’s life. It might be argued that the first step toward maturity is learning to accept responsibility.

Parents sometimes allow a child to have a pet to teach them responsibility. They impress on the child the responsibility for the care and feeding of a pet is not to be taken lightly.  Likewise, the responsibility of taking a male slave was not taken lightly.  The crowds they rode with could be pretty raw at times and each Master took an oath to protect and care for his slave.  That’s not to imply the slaves were push-over poofters either.  In most bondings, the Master would tell you,  the person he most wanted covering his back in a fight was his slave.

A good many bikers had simple but strong spiritual beliefs. I can only write about things I observed but I came to a conclusion in my association with these men:  God must love Harley riders.  I witnessed some pretty miraculous things occur to folks within this group. This book may confirm for many what they’ve long suspected;---God doesn’t turn his back on bikers, whores, gays, prisoners, the homeless, the mentally deficient nor any person who has a good heart and tries to do the right thing.  As a matter of fact, he’s quite fond of them.

It could be argued that a balance of good and evil exists within all things not to exclude the bible.  Fundamentalist that choose to ride a dead horse about the damnation of men who prefer men believe every word in a work of questionable origin with equal doses of goodness and hatred.  Their vain attempts to validate their sexual superiority by pointing to scripture written by sheep herders over two thousand years ago is ludicrous.  These scriptures were written by the same zealot mentality that produced such wonderful teachings as, “it is a sin against God to defecate within the city walls after sundown, punishable by death!” (Bet that gave the term, ‘green apple quickstep’ new dimensions!)

Sweet Cheeks Falwell was quick to irresponsibly lay blame to 9/11 on gay people. Even though he later withdrew his remark, the damage he surely meant to accomplish was all ready done. What is the value of an apology from a bigot for being a bigot?  The amusing thing was,  it was a classic, text book, example of ‘projection;’ trying to project on to someone else, what is in truth, your own character flaw.

Does any group in our country more resemble the ‘Taliban’ mentality than right wing fundamentalism?  The only difference is the rhetoric.  The Taliban would take away your personal freedoms in the name of terror and ‘Jehad.’ The right wing, fundamentalist, Christians are far more insidious. They would deprive you of you personal freedoms, ‘for your own good,’ in the name of their perverted, self-serving, narrow definition of the word, “love.”  (Gee, I think I remember something like that happening in Germany during the thirties.  Aww, it could never happen here, in a free country like ours.) 

 I feel safe in quoting an old spiritual as an example of truth, “All them folks what’s talk’n ‘bout heaven ain’t going there.”

They can’t believe in the same God I do.  The God I believe in only wants us to know love, gather goodness to bring to him when we return. It doesn’t matter how rich you become, or how important other men tell you, you are, you can’t take money or status with you.

It stands to reason, love is the only thing we can bring to him.  I was present when there were moments of unexplained, high strangeness with this group of men. (no, not drug induced; although, it was there if you wanted it.) I witnessed things occur that went far beyond coincidence that said to me, a greater power had to be at work.  Over the years I became convinced God had a special place in his heart for these men. 
   
They were not flawless by any means, but for them, and it might be argued for anyone, their philosophy for dealing with others proved to be caring, loving, and giving within accepted parameters as to what might be expected for their investment in another person. They weren’t altruistic do gooders.

They expected, demanded and got the best bang for their metaphorical buck.  “Gas, grass, or ass---nobody rides for free!” was their motto to others not closely associated with their family.  They operated from a primus that nothing in life is free. There are no free lunches. At best life is a trade off.  As they saw it, determining how much one is willing to pay to get what he wants was the trick to a happy life.
 
“Booger Red & Cowboy,” was the first book of a quartet of books on this subject dealing with the same clan family of outlaw bikers.  The four books were completed and then along came "Cabbage Patch Cowboy."  While writing this story (BR & CB) about a champion rodeo cowboy and a butt ugly outlaw biker, it occurred to me I was retelling the story of, “Beauty and the Beast” in a modern day,  homoerotic, Master/slave, outlaw biker group setting; using individuals I have known as characters in the story.

I’ve been asked if these are real people and my answer is ‘yes!’ Most I describe were real people.  A few are fictional composites of several people. (If certain characters seem similar to my other story “Cabbage Patch Cowboy” it’s because they were modeled after real people.)

To include anything of faith, hope, love, companionship, honor, loyalty, joy, charity, successful, happy relationships, understanding and forgiveness in the context of a homoerotic Master/slave novel might be considered somewhat revolutionary by some. I wrote this novel as partial therapy and grief work over the loss of my personal slave.  He issued a challenge to me to write about men we knew who had found a way to sustain long term successful relationships who were not modeled on the outdated, enormous failure rate of so called ‘straight marriage’ nor the unsuccessful myths of the gay leather crowd.

I complained that what passed for homoerotic literature may be about homosexuals but was so sanitized for main stream consumption I never found a paragraph that would lift my spirits or anything else for that matter.  I read all the way through any number of best sellers waiting for the erotic part,...then felt cheated at the end ‘cause I had my yellow stained towel at the ready but it never came.  Neither did I, for that matter.

Therefore, you may consider this story ‘unsanitized’ for middle America.  It has not been stripped of the erotic parts to make it palatable for main stream consumption.  In this story, it wouldn’t make a great deal of sense without the erotic parts.  It is part and parcel of the shared sexual experience that made these men capable of great passion and love for each other.

They were able to separate love from pure animal lust  (i.e. man = animal) Yet they were fully capable of understanding the greater concept of love through tight emotional bonds and unwavering trust. They were a unique group of men and only a hand full remain.  Over the years the families grew smaller because of attrition from age, accidents, and the plague. However, they’re still a tight group, holding fast to their ideals and living by them today.

To add an update to the above paragraph that was written almost five years ago,  I’m happy to relate these families are now on the increase again.  For what reason?  Who knows?   I have personally ridden with three major, rather large groups of men that still hold to the same concepts and traditions.  Their numbers are growing daily.


Waddie Greywolf
August 20, 2001