| Uncle Vronsky 's Guide to Orgy Etiquette |
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| Everybody LOVES an orgy! But let’s be honest, they’re not all fun and games. First of all, think of all the planning that goes into a really smashing fuckfest. It’s not like you’re down the pub and all the sudden somebody squeals, “Orgy!” If it starts out like this, I guarantee it will end in tears every time. You’ll get to old Ned’s place, next to the city dump, or the morgue, and discover you’re all bottoms. And a circle jerk does not an orgy make. Lesson No.1: Planning is key! Make a list, and check it twice, girls! Make sure the balloons and the streamers match! Do you have enough punch and potato salad? And what about the guests? Remember: 2 TOPS TO EVERY BOTTOM! That’s one for the entrance and one for the exit. If you have to, get out there and verify the status of every last boy on that list. Nowadays who the hell knows the truth? I mean, with something like 90% of queers calling themselves versatile. For orgy purposes “versatile” means “pick a hole, any hole”. Which brings us to… Lesson No.2: Too many bottoms and your orgy turns into a pajama party. You might as well rent Mrs. Doubtfire and have a gab-n-gigglefest instead. But back to planning. A short list of must-have materials for any orgy worthy of the name will include banalities like tarps; rubber gloves; vats of Crisco; funnels; plenty of tubing; several rolls of electrical tape; ski masks; and firearms, for starters. Lesson No.3: Have plenty of fun activities in store for your guests! If you’re planning a big bang you should have plenty of activities and amusements to choose from. Some of your guests will want to take a little break from having their asses and mouths mercilessly reamed (try as you might, you couldn’t find any other orifices, could you?). Do you have refreshments on hand? The best-case scenario is a catering service, but if you’re too cheap to hire someone to do it for you, then you’d better spend the difference on the booze and the grub. I know some low-life americanos think it’s au courant to request that their guests “pitch in,” as they like to say. All I can say is au contraire! We’re not building a barn here, boys. This BYOB mentality is precisely what’s wrong with queer society these days. |
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| You might also consider hiring trained acrobats, contortionists, freaks, mimes, or animal husbandrists to entertain your guests during the inevitable lulls in sexual activity. Nothing brings a smile to the face like a frolicking, preferably nude acrobat, the way their little tidgies bob about! hehehe!!!! Or a talented mime simulating slow death by suffocation in his invisible box. You’ll already have plenty of contortionists and freaks about, but a few more can’t hurt. Theme parties. Let’s admit it, sometimes fucking can get a little monotonous. That’s why you want to spice things up with a special theme for the night. |
| Leather-n-lace. We all know that even the roughest, toughest daddy has his soft, sentimental side. The point of the leather-n-lace party is to liberate the poofter within. Decorate the house with doilies and dainty, lacy things. Only the most exquisite, least filling hors d’oeuvres served on silver platters by fully clothed servants with funny names who act as if nothing’s amiss. French champagne and rosé to drink in elegant crystal flutes. Coco Chanel in the air. Live chamber music to eat each other’s asses to. Satin sheets for fucking on. You get the idea. Doesn't it make you tingle just thinking about it? Frat-boy fiesta. Everybody wears a baseball cap, and everybody’s str8-acting. Please, no fats or fems! Peace! Here are some more suggestions, in no particular order: Trailer-Trash Extravaganza Enema Fantasmagoria Vogue! Life in the Medieval Monastery A Day Amongst the Smurfs Post-Apocalyptic Gorefest The possibilities are, of course, endless. For additional tips, check out Pier Paolo Pasolini’s Salò. It’s filled with great ideas for an unforgettable orgy! |
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| Lesson No.4: Safety above all! But let’s not forget, as nasty as it gets, it’s really only make-believe! Sometimes people forget, and get a wee bit carried away in their own little leatherpig fantasy. That’s why Uncle Vronsky suggests you keep a psychologist trained in the fast-growing specialty field of Group Sex Behaviorism on hand. And a hypnotist. And a rolfer. At a minimum. If it’s an indoor orgy, emergency numbers should be posted in every room. It’s best to confine your activities to one floor if you happen to have more than one available to you, as nothing will ruin a good orgy like some drugged-up fairy falling down a flight of stairs, cracking his head and bleeding on your brand-new umpteen thousand dollar hand-stitched Iranian rug in the foyer. And the histrionics. You know any little cut or bruise and the drama queens will be weeping and wailing and screaming “Homophobe!” and “Gay genocide!” Best to avoid that whole scene, if at all possible. Outdoor orgies are even more dangerous, of course. It’s all fun and games until your guests get the bright idea to start fornicating in the deep end of the pool. And then, suddenly, it’s “Where’s Steve? Has anyone seen Steve?” Floating face-down under the high-dive, no doubt. And, let me tell you, there will always be a Steve. Someone who bumbles from orgy to orgy, nearly drowning in the pool at this orgy, nearly cracking his head on the banister at that one, nearly O.D.-ing in the bathtub at the other, puking all over everything, the lousy little slut-sucking addict. You can black-list the bugger, but there will always be another Steve to take his place. That’s what the disclaimers posted next to the list of emergency numbers in each room and the consent form are for. The consent form should be drawn up by a lawyer, girls. Don’t try to do it yourself, because it will never hold up. Judge Whopper or whatever the hell they call him, will laugh your ass right out of People's Court. Lucky for you, Uncle Vronsky has a degree in Queer Law, and has a stack of forms on hand, which he’ll be more than happy to fax right over, for a small processing fee. The point of the form is that in signing it the guest relinquishes any claim of damages against the host. It cannot protect you, however, from the vicious rumors and hateful gossip that will surely result from your little soirée, but that’s life in the big city, as my mother used to say. Nobody ever said being a queen would be easy. |
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| Now, I know it’s a lot to think about, but that’s the nature of the beast. You want it to end with a bang and not a whimper, don’t you? The real danger here is that after all the blood, sweat and piss you put into planning it, you’ll be too anxious to enjoy it yourself. If you think that’s going to be the case, then you should probably rent a room somewhere instead. ©2002 Dante D’Arezzo. All rights reserved. |
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