Monthly Archives: June 2011

Link

Let’s hope people respond better to this than they have to past efforts.  I love this following bit in particular:

“Please note: while it is great if people of colour who are part of the bi community (or even those who aren’t!) are willing to share their experiences and explain the problems they have encountered, it is not their responsibility to do that, to educate others or do the work of changing the community themselves. It’s everyone else’s responsibility to put the effort in. Otherwise we are just asking people who already have to deal with racist behaviour directed at them to spend their time and energy helping out the very people behaving offensively.”

Race diversity in the UK bi community

Image

I wrote David does BiCon in 2010, and followed it up with Debbie does BiCon a year later.  Both of these tales are about the fun that can be had at the biggest bisexual event in the U.K.  But nothing I could write could ever sum up this amazing weekender.

  It could start meeting old friends in the registration queue, hugging, kissing and slapping backs (was it really last year that I saw them?)  Name badges covered with stickers and stars; a shorthand way of finding out if the person beside you really is into spanking, or if that tiny black square just means they’re a Torchwood fan.

There seems to be a tradition that attendees must all simultaneously go on a trip to the local supermarket to stock up on weekend food.  It’s the one time of the year when everyone in Sainsbury’s looks like a Goth, but that’s just because the Rockers are still in the bar.  It’s a wonderful experience that makes me feel as if I am not a minority within a minority.  And when the bisexuals come to Sainsbury’s don’t expect to find any tofu left behind…

There are sessions aplenty, but some people never go to any.  There are outdoor spaces colonised by smokers and knitters.  If the weather is good, you’ll find more people outside having spontaneous sing-alongs, bullwhip demonstrations, and giving out countless invites to kitchen parties.

If the weather is wet and cold, I’ve found the Naked Lunch room will be the warmest spot.  All those nude people eating sandwiches and ice cream is something I never thought I’d be interested in.  But once clothes are shed, I can relax like nowhere else.  And everyone’s bodies are different, with lumps and freckles and scars.  Everyone smiles.  Everyone shares their food, and new friends are made in the most unlikely of places.

 BUT…

I have had a mini-crisis every year since 2007.  Do I go to BiCon this year, or give it a miss?  The event doesn’t exist in isolation; some people bring their bigotry and stupidity to BiCon.  I’ve been angry and upset during the event.  I’ve had attendees be racist and nasty and cruel to me.  But thankfully this has been the minority.  The good far outweighs the bad.

And some selected good bits:

Cuddle parties:  Who invented this amazing thing?  I want to send them some flowers and box of chocolates.  At my first BiCon in 2007, I was hugged more times in the first two days than I had been for my entire life up to that point.  The cuddle party pushed that all to the side when I spent an hour being held, snuggled, cuddled, squished and stroked.  Cuddle parties are bliss.

Reading my smut:  There’s no bigger boost to my confidence than to have eighty-odd people pile into a room, and listen as I read stories I’ve written.  I sang a dirty song in 2009 as a way to finish the session, and I simulated anal sex while reading a story in 2010.  I’ve given out vegan chocolates, spanked myself, and been told that I should “never be a nun!” by a listener  Which is the best career advice I could ask for…

Meeting new friends and lovers:  I am not a night-time person.  I’m usually in bed by 11, and I won’t make much sense at that hour.  But I’ve stayed up until the early morning chatting with people.  I’ve watched flogging demonstrations way into the night.  I’ve done the semi-naked walk of shame back to my room too many times to have a shred of dignity left.  And it’s all been great!  I’ve met lovers here too, not in the sexually charged private parties that seem to happen at the drop of a hat, but during daytime sessions, and whilst I stood with the smokers and the knitters simply passing the time. 

I may have a mini-crisis about BiCon every year, but I’m immensely grateful that this event exists.  The Lesbian, Gay and Trans scenes and communities in the United Kingdom are generally very poor at anything to do with bisexuality.  It is wonderful to have a space where my sexual orientation isn’t just an add-on, something mentioned once as a way to get some funding.  BiCon is great.  That’s why I keep coming back for more.  That’s why I keep writing about it!

The following excerpt is from Debbie does BiCon, a story from my collection: NSFW: Not Safe for Work.  This is fiction.  Your experience of BiCon may vary.  Past results are not an indicator of future fun.  Always consult a friend before embarking on a spanking…

*

*

*

Debbie does BiCon

The room was heaving.  The heat didn’t make things any easier, but I squeezed inside the seminar room just as Winifred, the workshop leader pinned the ‘session full’ sign to the door.  Sweat collected in my cleavage, making me wish I could just escape into a long cool shower.  However there was no escaping this workshop; a last minute addition to a convention of bisexual activism, sci-fi, parties and perversity.  It was my sixth time attending BiCon, however I hadn’t learned a single thing in all that time.  This year I had brought too many clothes, not enough money, and not a single drop of lube, although that wasn’t such a problem as I hadn’t had any offers for fun so far.  If I couldn’t get laid after this session, then I was handing back my bisexual identification card, and becoming a nun.  BiCon was a great weekender, better than Christmas in some respects, but the current not-getting-laid part was frustrating too.

I really had no idea who would turn up to a session called, Spanking for the fearful; I was sure that most of the people crammed into the seminar room were seasoned veterans in the field of spanking.  I’d come to this session straight after one called, Bisexuality and Role-play.  There seemed to be quite a bit of a crossover between the lovers of fantasy and those who appreciated a well-tanned bottom.  Some of the attendees had turned up to the session in costume: a green-skinned alien scribbled in a notebook, whilst someone in a silver robot outfit sat awkwardly on the edge of their seat.  There were less outlandish attendees as well.  I took in the sight of Thomas, or Master Thomas as he was sometimes known.  The young man grinned like a crazy person as he took his seat.  Thomas had been without a partner since his last submissive left to become a translator in Switzerland.  I’d seen Thomas play before, and he was truly awesome to watch; he could handle a bullwhip like a professional.  Thomas also had a sense of humility which was something sorely lacking in most dominant people I’d met.  I wondered if he was looking for someone new to take under his wing, or if he was just after a good time like the rest of us.

The good time in question was in the shape of one Andrea Willis-Sobotka.  Andrea was the most arrogant person I knew, period.  She was also the most drop-dead gorgeous woman I’d ever come across, figuratively speaking of course.  Andrea stood with her back to the rest of the room, head bent, hands crossed behind her back.  She wore a black thong and nothing else.  The temperature rose by several degrees as I appreciated the sight.

*

*

*

NSFW: Not Safe for Work is also available on (U.K) Kindle and (U.S) Kindle

BiCon is happening in Leicester this year.  I’m looking forward to it!

Link

Symon Hill is doing something outstanding.

“In the summer of 2011, I will walk from Birmingham to London (in Britain) as a pilgrimage of repentance for my former homophobic attitudes and behaviour.”

Symon will be stopping off at churches along the way, giving talks and attending worship.  I wish him all the best.  If he makes it out of North London in one piece, he’ll have my total respect.

A walk of repentence for homophobia