The early days had a serious resonance to them. We were about to seriously push the boundaries, finally, in front of god and all, and we felt that nothing could stop us. Though the many stories that have been told have been definitely embellished, there was some serious naughtiness going on at those energized beginnings. Just under that skirt or sheet, just behind that curtain, sometimes right there in front of us masked only amongst the throng of dancing people all sweating and gyrating, it seemed everywhere there was some threshold of sex being breached. Or about to be.  Whips literally on fire, stings and bruises, tie me up strap you down. Zippers, buckles, chains, spikes, armor plating, hard leather, soft velvet. It began a decade of scrapes and contusions for me, war wounds of thousands of deviant nights. The years that have spread out before us since have found many incarnations of this complicit deviousness. Orgies played out in front of thousands, wine drizzled down cleavage, licked off of thighs. Scant togas falling easily off as Rome burns in the background. Thank the gods for all the strippers who brought their considerably large quantities of tiny sequined panties for those who had none. And If you've never tried it you should really pour and rub baby oil over four or five nice young women who are wearing nothing but electrical tape. Just a hint if doing this in public: the electrical tape doesn't stick very well when oiled.