Sex With Snakes And Other Black Party Debauching Documented In Sizzling Book
Noted publicist/writer R. Couri Hay has gone to a Black Party or two in his time, and he's written a novel called Secret Lives, which culminates with a stop at the 1981 installment of the annual gay debauch (which is coming up this Saturday).
Here's some of his sparkling prose:
"Rodney's eyes continued to roam. He saw that there were men of every type handcuffed to the steel columns supporting the roof. The men were nude except for white socks and construction boots.
"Each had a black leather hood over his face; the zippers under their noses and mouths were open so they could breathe, but the zippers in front of their eyes were closed. All the men had erections, and hundreds of hands and mouths wandered, searched, and explored the men lashed to the poles by their wrists and ankles.
"When Rod's eyes were wide open because the Ecstasy had started to kick in, his attention turned from the pillars and went back to the stage. There he saw a man in a leather thong and harness hold up a 7-foot boa constrictor that was clearly alive. Rod had never witnessed this strange performance art before.
"He watched as the hooded executioner slowly worked the snakes wiggling tail into the ass of a prostrate figure chained to a bed. He was squirming and whining, not in pain, but in pleasure. As the snake disappeared up the butt of the handsome man, Rod slowly walked down the stairs toward the stage, fascinated by this live sex act.
"By the time he had threaded his way to the front, past the bar and the men handcuffed to the columns, his pleasure was heightened by the knowledge that here he was no one. He was still wearing his jacket, hat, and aviator glasses. Here, lost in the crowd, he was not a celebrated designer, a socialite, or a star; here he was just a man like all other men.
"The smell of sweat hung heavy in the room. Men posed everywhere, leaning against the walls, stretched out on the platforms, hands in their pockets, behind their heads, on their crotches, around lovers or strangers. Every imaginable human shape had been assumed by a thousand men.
"The area around the stage was packed so tightly he couldn't get near it, but he could see the Vaseline glisten on the ass of the boy and on the body of the snake as much too much of it was pulled from out of the boy's body before he was untied, thrown over the henchman's back, and carried off the stage.
"There was no applause, but the audience was cruising one another for reactions. Rodney could feel hands reaching out and groping him as he moved through the crowd, leaving traces of their perspiration on his leather sleeves."
Hmm. Glad to see things have changed so drastically in 31 years, lol.
Get the This Week's Top Stories Newsletter
Every week we collect the latest news, music and arts stories — along with film and food reviews and the best things to do this week — so that you'll never miss Village Voice's biggest stories.