textfiles/sex/EROTICA/A/asbparty.txt

THE ASB PARTY, JULY 20, 1991
Gaylaxicon, Tewksbury, Mass.
 
The Official ctan Account
 
Stress.  Stress.  Stress.  I drummed on the steering wheel of 
my car and sang loudly out my open window as I sat in the 
traffic on Boston's Central Artery.  The temperature was 
topping 100 degrees but I didn't want to risk turning on the 
air conditioner and overheating the car.  I was late as it 
was -- past noon already and here I was still in Boston.  
Gaylaxicon had started the night before, but prior 
engagements kept me from going.  Now now, get your mind out 
of the gutter.  The band I manage, Sexploitation, was playing 
their farewell gig in Boston before starting off on their 
cross-country tour.  They were booked at the Channel, to open 
for The Lyres.  They didn't get on the road until 3am, after 
a very long, drawn-out farewell.  Why can't I cry when I say 
goodbye?  The tears never come until I am alone.  
 
The blues came and went as I sat in the sweatbox of a car, 
distracted from the songs I was trying to sing by thought, 
wondering where they were now, how much closer to Cincinnati.  
But then, I would get impatient, inching closer and closer to 
the bumper of the car in front of me, as if that would get me 
to the con faster.  There's fags and dykes waiting for me, 
dammit!  Out of my way!
 
At last I passed the Tobin bridge and started to sail.  If 
there's one thing I love about the Camaro, it's she was meant 
to go fast.  In fact, I think that car gets the best mileage 
above 65 mph.  I was on my way to Tewksbury, with the aircon 
blasting, singing Cure songs at the top of my lungs.  I 
looked at the clock--the display had gone bonzo from the 
heat.  I wanted to check in as early as possible because the 
hotel had informed me they couldn't promise us two rooms that 
adjoined.  It would be first come, first serve.  One couple 
had dropped off our roster at the last minute.  So if we 
didn't get the two rooms that adjoined, not only would our 
plans for the party be sent awry, the extra room would be 
close to useless.  I wondered how close to the limit my 
credit card was.  I wondered if we would have party crashers.  
I worried that there wouldn't be enough food.  I worried that 
people would get frightened freaked out and have a bad 
leather trip on my account.  NO, no, everything is going to 
work out fine, I told myself.  You planned this party for a 
reason.  Go and meet your tribe face to face, girl.  And quit 
moping about the band!
 
Half the stress melted away from the mere strength of the 
air-conditioning in the hotel.  Thank god I would be spending 
the night in an air-conditioned room!  They were predicting it 
would hit 105 the next day.  And then, miraculously, I was 
given keys to two adjoining rooms.  One with a king size bed, 
one with two double beds.  In the first room there was an 
exercise bicycle.  Hmm.  I left messages on the con message 
board for the other occupants of the room (D! , Lauren Burka, 
and Ian, my co-conspirators in this escapade, as well as Rick 
Shetron and /phi.)  I also put up a sign calling for more 
roommates, though I thought, gods, what if some extremely 
vanilla people decide they want to get some sleep and we're 
having a whip demonstration at 3am or something...?  Just a 
little more stress, please.
 
I attended some panels, wandered around the dealer's floor, 
the usual con things, saw D! on a panel called "Sex in SF: Is 
It Just Porn?"  The answer: who cares?  we like it anyway.  
For a while I kind of forgot about the party, the band, the 
stress, as I slipped into that fantasy sf con mode.  But them 
it was time for the "S/M in SF" panel, and as I watched the 
room fill up with men and women in dog collars (I was wearing 
mine the whole time), uniforms, and lots of black leather, I 
suddenly remembered what my real fear about the party was.
 
It didn't have anything to do with the room arrangements or 
SMettiquette or door guards or anything logistical.  I had 
just remembered my survey of the people attending the party.  
Of those who RSVP'd, not one bottom among them.  Me and a 
room full of tops.  It had been worrying me for over a month, 
but Ihuad glossed it over with all the other little worries.  
Now looking into a crowded room of leatherpeople, it was 
undeniable.  Well, I thought, how are you going to handle 
this one?
 
Like always, I figured I would play it by ear.  I had never 
been in a public scene before, and never been in a SMBD scene 
with any more than one person.  I couldn't guess what 
dynamics would be like, couldn't guess what my reactions 
would be.  Well, I thought, I can always yell "AARDVARK!" and 
I'm sure everyone will crack up laughing!
 
We ran out to the store for provisions, stocking up on 
chocolate (by 3 am I was very glad we bought those almond 
M&MS), soda, and of course some strokes of genius on Lauren's 
part--licorice whips and Safety Pops!  
 
People began arriving promptly at midnight.  I had posted a 
rule sheet which basically said that since we had to sleep 
there, we wanted no smoking, no liquid messes (soda, ice, 
bodily fluids...), but I left out any explicit safe sex 
rules.  Hey, who said there was going to be sex at this 
party?  No assumptions, no pressure.  Just let whatever 
happens, happen.  There was also a sign up sheet which I have 
here somewhere...  in the end I think we had somewhere 
between 30 and 50 people because not all of them signed it.  
 
Things got off to a brisk start as the first few arrivals 
immediately began comparing toys.  Some sets of leather 
cuffs, ribbon ties, various other black leather implements...  
I was already beginning to drift in a daze.  Lady M and Amber 
(a master/slave pair who, though not on asb, were prominent 
at the con) were starting in on a demo with the Twizzlers.  
>From here on out, the chronological sequence of events gets 
even more jumbled.
 
I remember Ian walking in, actually, no, I think I hugged him 
in the hallway.  Gods but it's good to see someone in the 
flesh, to hold them and touch them, when it's just been 
months of e-mail since the last time you saw them.  (I last 
saw him at Arisia in February!)  It became quickly evident 
that everyone was crowded in the room with the two double 
beds, as though no one was quite sure what would happen to 
them if they went into the other room.  I remember making an 
announcement or something about the air conditioning working 
better...  the population began to even out.  I think it was 
around 12:30 when I sat down on the king size bed, where D! 
and Ian were sitting.  I don't remember the conversation.
 
D! began tickling me.  Unlike /phi, who was already bound up 
and being tickled with every implement people could think to 
try in the other room, I fight being tickled.  We struggled 
for a few moments, wrestling, roughhousing.  I remember a 
fleeting thought--why couldn't I ever roughhouse with my ex-
boyfriend? I always ended up getting to serious about it for 
some reason.  Well, I guess a lot of things have changed 
since then.  At one point I very nearly got free, but 
someone, I'm 99% percent sure it was Ian, jumped in to 
assist, and then next thing I knew, there was at least one 
person on each limb, holding me down on my stomach.  They 
flipped me over and someone called for a blindfold.  I 
thought, I knew this would happen...  but I felt secure.  D! 
had started it, I was sure she knew.  And with her more or 
less the "top" top then, I felt assured.  There was still no 
telling what might happen.  I stopped struggling and settled 
in for the ride.
 
Now the sequence gets even more blurred.  Voices, I knew some 
people by their voices, but it was easy to get confused.  
Mostly women, Regis, Lauren, other friendly women.  I could 
hear them talking about me, but it was hard to pick up one 
thread of conversation.  A bucket of ice was brought.  I 
shivered when I heard it.
 
I was wearing a spandex halter top and spandex footless 
leggings.  D!, on top of me, I think, dribbled ice water over 
my stomach.  Cold wet fingers probed under the halter, to 
meet the nipples rising to greet them.  Other hands, fingers, 
ran ice over my arms, under my chin.  Was it Ambar or Lauren 
who started with the clothespins? Perhaps it was both.  I 
have been dreading clothespins ever since reading Pat 
Califia's THE CALYX OF ISIS a long time ago.  She's right, 
they don't hurt at all the first second, but then the heat 
begins to build the longer each one is left on.  They 
feathered my bare arms with them.  More ice.  I melted into 
the sensations.  Someone, Peter?, was licking my toes.  Then, 
more icicle fingers, probing under my elastic waistband.  The 
piece of ice melting as it was slid between my lips--gone.  
Another followed, centering onto my clit, making it buzz.  
Gentle female fingers pushed another further down, in.  I 
probably gasped, who remembers now?  I remember talking, I 
remember Lauren wondering how to shut me up, but I don't 
remember anything I said.  I remember people talking to me, 
and answering.  I remember hearing /phi from the other room 
and people remarking how much like a Toon he sounded...
 
The blow on my arm came as a surprise.  In the same instant I 
felt it, my brain back-tracked through the conversations it 
hadn't been able to parse in time and I realized *They are 
taking the clothespins off...* but I was still startled.  D! 
in my ear then--Are you okay?  I was okay.  It was just a 
very rough moment.  I do remember saying "I didn't hear it 
coming."  D! started icing the spots where the clothespins 
had come off.  The resulting hot/cold sensation made me 
forget all about the whip--it hadn't been very hard, anyway.  
 
Something else hot/cold burning was dribbling into my mouth.  
Schnapps?  No, rum, I could smell it.  I licked it from my 
lips.  Regis' voice.  "Get that Swiss Army knife away from 
me!" I said, just because I knew what she was going to do.  
Knowing didn't make a difference.  She poked and stroked my 
middle, my ribs, my stomach, with the serrated hacksaw edge.  
I could hear a cigarette lighter hissing...  what was she 
doing?  I felt something, hot?  Sharp?  It was too quick for 
my brain to register it, only the reflexes did.  There it was 
again.  Again.  After a while I guessed it was not the knife-
-it must have been a pin or needle, heated.  As a kind of 
pain, it made me grit my teeth--it just didn't hurt *enough.*  
I remember Lauren's rabbit fur, too.  Almost too soft for the 
brain to sense.
 
Regis asked me if she could give me a hickey.  I said yes.  
Time froze for the moments she held me still, her mouth 
locked on just below my left collar bone.  I think we were 
both panting when she broke away.  More rum.  D! and Lauren 
checking up on me when I got quiet to see if I was okay.  
Various threads of conversation going on around me, someone 
mentioned the exercise bike.  I do not remember hearing the 
chain being iced.
 
D! slipped some more ice under my halter.  And then she began 
slipping the chain into my tights.  She told me later she had 
been inspired by something I had posted in one of my Self 
Bondage posts.  Yes, iced chain *is* the perfect thing to rub 
the clitoris with, sometimes.  If you thought my memory was 
fuzzy before, it gets even fuzzier now.  I remember wondering 
how much chain there was, how big the links were, how big a 
puddle we were leaving behind in the bed as she iced it and 
worked it between my legs (so much for the rules...)  It 
sounded heavy.  After a while my brain gave up thinking.  I 
probably stopped talking, too.  Someone was kissing me.  No, 
wait, I remember one thing now, it doesn't do me any good to 
squeeze my nipples.  I think I told someone in my "matter of 
fact" voice to lay off of them.  Which they kindly did.  Now 
that I think about it, there had been some nipple clamps 
sometime earlier in the evening--I had to call for those to 
be taken off, too.  Don't know why--you can beat me black and 
blue but I just can't seem to eroticize nipple pinching.  
Turns me right off.  I must remember this for future 
reference.
 
So, what then?  Orgasm, of course!  I hadn't known if it 
would necessarily go that far, but D! kindly obliged me.  I 
remember collapsing in a heap.  I remember saying something, 
but not what I said.  The blindfold came off, but I couldn't 
open my eyes.  Even through the lids it was too bright.  I 
put my hands over my eyes and opened them slowly.  D! was 
still on top of me and I was surrounded by smiling faces.  
Ah, I remember what I said.  "Thank you."  Some people told 
me their names, I thanked them, too, different people who 
held different limbs at different times.  D! hugged me for a 
long time and eventually I had the strength to stand up. It 
was about 2am.
 
In the other room things thinned out a bit as Regis and 
Lauren lured people out into the parking lot to play with 
fire.  I watched from the window a little, but couldn't 
settle comfortably on the air conditioner.    I remember 
sitting in different places in the room, but not quite 
settling down.  Someone asked me if I wanted to sleep.  
Actually, I didn't.  I was too relaxed, and enjoying being so 
relaxed too much to wreck it by sleeping during it.  
 
Eventually, sometime before 6 am, when the sky was already 
quite light, we all slept.