Strap on play class in Santa Cruz Jan 28th

Whether you are a pegging virgin or really love dishing it out and just want to pick up a few more pointers to improve your game, this is the class for you! Strap-on aficionado and expert Rain DeGrey covers all the bases when it comes to strapping one on:

*How to find the right harness lubes, and toys for you and your particular pegging needs
*The various toys and attachments available for play such as Feeldoes and vibrators
*The proper care and cleaning for all your strap-on accessories
*Oral, vaginal, and anal strap-on play tips and techniques and how to safely play rough
*How to properly prepare oneself or partner for receiving anal strap-on play
*Large toy insertions

There will be live demos of all of the concepts presented in the class, followed by a question and answer period. This is a pansexual class open to all genders and orientations, everyone is welcome to come out and get their learn on!

Event info and ticketsĀ 

Instructor: Rain DeGrey is an international educator, writer, presenter and performer that has been teaching kink and sex education classes since 2009. After getting her start as a fetish model and Pro Domme, she was motivated to branch out into education, something she is extremely passionate about.

Demystifying sexuality and presenting in a clear and humorous way are trademarks of her teaching style and she believes strongly in making sex education fun. She has taught on a wide variety of topics at Harvard, Northwestern University, Kink.com, The Citadel, Pure Pleasures, Stormy Leather, Folsom Fringe, The Looking Glass, KinkAcadamy, PassionateU, Mission Control and Boundcon in Germany.

strapon

Oral sex class at Good Vibrations on Jan 22nd!

Love downstairs action? Are you a fan of the oral but want to increase your skill set? Or are you afraid you suck at sucking? This is the class for you, no matter what your experience level is!

Rain DeGrey, fan of all things oral, shares tips and techniques. Covering multiple positions as well as power dynamics, incorporating anal, safer sex techniques and conquering deep-throat, this class has it all! Oral sex techniques for all genders will be covered. Come prepared to learn and increase your oral skills in a fun, non-threatening environment. This is a pansexual class open to all genders and orientations, everyone is welcome!

Event and ticket info

 

Caution advised

I am out of the closet. With a vengeance. I took the damn thing right off the hinges. Nobody can out me, nobody can threaten me, nobody can affect my job or family. I have no children. I will never run for political office. I have already quite successfully outed myself. There is no way that my personal wiring and proclivities can come to bite me in the ass.

It isn’t that way for everyone.

I keep forgetting that being kinky is still a big deal to some folks. In this day and age, when people seem so much more open minded and less judgmental, I keep forgetting that for some people, being kinky is a hazardous calling.

But it is.

This is a public service announcement for all my fellow kinksters out there. Unless you are so out that you tell your grandma about your fetlife parties and give zero fucks, please, I beg of you, show some caution. There are angry and bitter and vengeful people out there and they do not have your best interests at heart.

*If you have kids?
*If you have a job you don’t want to lose?
*If you do something with higher visibility?
*If you are in law enforcement or the military?
*If you have an angry ex?
*If you have someone that propositioned you and you turned them down?

Be very very careful. We kinksters tend to live in a blissful bubble, mainly surrounded by like-minded people that accept us and do not judge us, but not everyone is down with sharing that kink bubble with us.

The outings that happen from Fetlife can ruin families, cost you your job and affect your access to your own children. Unless you are completely out, I can not recommend that you put your face on your FL profile. No identifying details. Do not show your tattoos if you have any. Do not post the actual city you are in. Do not use your legal name. Do not use the same pics on FL that you have posted on a public social media site.

It saddens me that we kinksters have to be so cautious, but all you need is one upset person doing a screen shot of your FL profile and sending around the info to ruin your life. And those vengeful people ARE out there, make no mistake. Our natural kinky wiring can become the tool that bitter people try and use to take us down. Don’t give them anything to work with.

Stay safe my friends!

Top 5 inappropriate toys for children

**Top 5 inappropriate toys for children**

Ah children. With their wide eyes and impish smiles, they are not yet wise to the ways of the world. Children are supposed to be innocent bastions of purity, free from guile. We love our children, and we love spoiling them by buying them toys. It is just too bad that not every toy manufacturer got the memo about children being bastions of purity. Without any further ado, may we present the top 5 list of inappropriate toys designed for children.

**Number Five**

Batman water gun

Water guns are a staple of summer fun and a cheap way to provide your children with hours of entertainment. And what could be more fun than this Batman water gun? All you have to do is open up the back and pour it in, then press hard on the trigger for a big load to come shooting out. Batman, we had no idea.

Batman water gun

Batman water gun

**Number Four**

Buzz Lightyear sippy cup

Children’s little hands are still growing and gravity has a way of getting the best of them. Many a parent has thankfully purchased sippy cups to help minimize messes. And if your children are big Toy Story fans, you can get them this Buzz Lightyear cup! Now all they have to do is put their lips on the straw and suck hard until liquid refreshment slides down their throats!

Buzz Lightyear sippy cup

Buzz Lightyear sippy cup

Wait a minute. That pleased look on Buzz’s face is starting to look a little TOO pleased.

**Number Three**

ET finger light toy

ET light-up finger

ET light-up finger

It is a dildo. No seriously, look at it. That doesn’t even come close to looking like a toy for children. Somehow nobody involved in the production of this thing noticed that they were making a dildo??!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Number Two**

The Punisher shape shifter action figure

Designed in such a way to make every young boy feel inadequate, this Punisher action figure features what is basically a massive missile jutting out of it’s crotch. The gritted teeth and clenched fists only add to the…erectness of the whole situation. Granted, this is a shape shifting toy and the giant crotch rocket only appears halfway through the transformation. Let’s see what the finished toy looks like.

The Punisher transforming toy

The Punisher transforming toy

Oh my. We didn’t think it could get any worse. We were wrong. Evidently The Punisher is a very hardcore power bottom.

**Number One**

Harry Potter and the vibrating broomstick

Of course, no list of inappropriate toys for children would be complete without the kiddie vibrator. Who knew what the marketing department for Mattel was thinking when they came up with this winner? Maybe they knew exactly what they were doing all along. Bless their perverted little hearts. The Harry Potter Nimbus 2000 was a plastic broom that you straddled. Once you turned it on it started vibrating, no doubt transporting you to a realm of magic and bliss.

The broomstick was discontinued once sex shops started carrying it at double the retail price and these days it is much harder to locate. But if you still have one and your kids are going through batteries at a rapid rate, it might be time to rethink this particular toy…

Harry Potter vibrating broomstick

Harry Potter vibrating broomstick

 

 

This article originally appeared online in TNA’s article section.

Woodrocket articles and interviews

For the past 6 months I have been a regular columnist for Woodrocket.. Woodrocket has always been one of my favorite sites and I love their sense of humor and style, so writing with them was a natural fit. I figured it was high time to collect all of my articles in one place so that they could be easier to check out. Without any further ado, here you go:

My sex life requires a tractor

8 things that people don’t expect will happen in porn but totally will

Zombie gangbang

Rocco Siffredi. The Man. The Myth. The Magic.

Kicked out of the AVNs in under 2 hours

Odd Japanese fetishes

Steve Holmes and his massive mutant cock

Nina Hartley, the giant panda suit and me

Clown tickle takedown

Panda gangbang

Marica Hase and the BBC

Dildos and the TSA

The accidental anal teacher

I have also done some interviews with Woodrocket as well when I was at the AVNs that are available on Youtube, but I might as well add them in to this blog post. Enjoy!

Rocco Siffredi

How I got into the industry

Weirdest scenes

Picking porn names

What porn stars masturbate to

 

 

 

Twisted family trees and the fruit they bear

I was surprised when the phone rang. Nobody ever calls these days. A phone call means that something is wrong. I was even more surprised to see it was my father. My hermit, Lake Country dwelling, off the grid, no paved roads having, removed his mailbox and hid it in the bushes so that nobody could see his house numbers because he didn’t want to be disturbed father. If he was calling something was seriously wrong.

When I picked up the phone my father’s gruff pack of cigarettes day for 50 years straight voice barked out “Would you have any interest in saving the ancestral family home from being repossessed by the city of San Francisco?”

“I wasn’t even aware that we had an ancestral family home” I replied.

“That is a long story there” my father wheezed.

As it turns out, I had an 84 year old great uncle Jack I didn’t even know existed until that phone call. Uncle Jack had come to the attention of the authorities due to the fact that his neighbors had called the police. The neighbors had called the police because my 84 year old uncle was using a ladder to climb into the second story window of his house. The reason he was using a ladder to climb into the second story of his house was because he could not get his front door open. The reason he could not get his front door open is because he had not taken out the trash in over half a century.

Thus began my introduction to the world of hoarding. And Jack was truly an expert hoarder. If they gave out degrees for hoarding he would have a PhD. He took his hoarding so seriously that every single day he carefully swept his entire city block with a disintegrating broom, both sides, collecting everything into plastic bags and then bringing the bags into his house for safekeeping. It took him hours. He had built a wall against the world. A wall of trash. Actual trash, not metaphorical trash.

The root of Jack’s problems was that he never moved out of his mother’s house. And the more the years passed the harder it got for him to move out. Other than a brief stint in the navy that ended when he threatened a superior officer with a potato peeling knife his journeys were limited. He solidified into the safety and security of the walls of the house until leaving became impossible. He became a lifer, obsessively collecting things by mail order and focusing on his passions, which included drawing, books, collectible china plates and cross dressing. Once my great grandmother passed away, the collecting spiraled out of control.

By the time an intervention was staged, Jack was living in a two story 4 bedroom house that contained over 6 feet of trash in every single room and had no working electricity. He had not sat down in years, as all of the furniture in the house had long ago been buried under piles of drifting paper, letters and magazines. His bed was a nest of torn and used tissues out in the hallway as he had long ago lost access to his bed under hundreds of dime store pulp paperbacks. Cold San Francisco air blew in through the broken windows which he compensated for by wearing so many layers of clothing that he resembled the Michelin Man and he had worn his baseball cap for so long that his hair had grown right through the mesh. I had to use scissors to cut the hat off of his dreadlocked head. Nobody passing him on the street would of realized he was the owner of a million dollar house in San Francisco. Just don’t move out, get increasingly more eccentric and let the properties around you accumulate in value over the course of 60 years is not one of the standard paths to millions, but it had worked for Uncle Jack.

The deal we were given was that if we could get the house clean enough to not be rated as an environmental hazard, we would get to keep it. If not, the city took it over and institutionalized Jack, selling off the house for his upkeep. Jack was not delighted with either option he had and voted for option three “Everyone leave me the fuck alone.”

Option three was not picked up and the entire family showed up with shovels to excavate out his house. It would take weeks. None of us truly realized the magnitude of the task before us when we first got started. I didn’t even take into consideration the need for gloves until halfway through the first day when I was working in the kitchen and my hand plunged into a half buried plastic bag that turned out to contain a large collection of used dirty dildos slathered in Vaseline and…other things. Why men can be so resistant to cleaning their own sex toys or why the kitchen floor was a reasonable place for used dildos I do not know but it was gloves and a face mask from there on out.

By the end we ended up removing over 2 metric tons of trash, taking it out can by can down the old wooden stairs. We stood on the slippery and unsteady ground that was stacked up so high our heads brushed the ceiling and dug it out by the shovelful. My legs ached. My hair stunk. My lungs burned. The papers were stacked up in geological layers like sediment. At the top was the 2000s, then the 90s, 80s, 70s and 60s and some rare Life magazines at the bottom from the 1950s. The original hardwood floors under all the junk were actually in pristine condition as they had not seen sunlight in over half a century.

The house was a monument to Jack’s two great obsessions, collectibles and sex. Mail order collecting allowed him to gather possessions without having to leave the safety of his house and he focused mainly on china plates and large dolls. Not that he ever took the dolls and plates out of their shipping boxes or anything like that. He would gather a description of what was inside the box from the accompanying paperwork, write the description on the outside of the box in his unsteady handwriting and then stack the unopened box on top of all of the other unopened boxes. There were hundreds of them all throughout the house, creating walls up to the ceiling. It would of driven me crazy to not get to see what it was I was buying, but for Jack just having them in his possession was enough.

His other great love was women, but surprisingly enough women didn’t seem to find him super dateable and he remained a lifelong bachelor. In desperation for female companionship he turned to cross dressing, reasoning that if women didn’t want him he would just become his own damn woman. However, with a lack of women around his life to draw on for inspiration, he patterned himself after the only woman he really knew…his mother.

As a result, his cross dressing was all pantsuits and mumus and grey wigs and support hose and girdles. Even here his obsessive collecting was evident as he had to buy everything in triplicate or more and most of it was not opened. So it was not one package of thick support hose, it would be a box of them. Stacks of wigs. Cheap makeup. Dime store jewelry and pearls. He did not make a particularly sexy woman, judging from the various black and white snapshots of him in drag scattered throughout the mountains of papers drifting though the rooms and hallways. Why one needs to dress up at their dead mother and stick dildos up their ass is a desire I will never understand, but the more I got to know my family the more twisted I realized my family tree happened to be.

His sexual interests were more than just old lady drag however. This was before the advent of the internet, and there was once a thriving market for women to send letters to men and hit them up for money under the guise of “helping them out.” The women would send provocative photos and letters, but the underlying message in all of the letters was to ask for money. If you sent money, they wrote more letters and sent more photos. Lonely men could at least get the excitement of some attention and tell themselves that this damsel in distress was writing to them and them alone. The house was coated in hundreds of these letters and endless photos of squinty eyed women draped awkwardly over couches and cars. The internet destroyed this market and now it is just “hi sexxxyy, I am good women seeking strong honest man, my love calls for you” emails that pile up in my spam folder. I do not think I am the strong honest man that they seek.

8 millimeter porn films, nudist magazines featuring people distinctly under the age of 18, he had it all. This was a man that loved the sex, despite the fact that he had nobody to do it with other than himself. The house was a testament to how snarled up one could get into their own head if they had no real interaction with the outside world. It was just one big scrapbook of self obsession and masturbation.

The total clean up took over 2 weeks but it was the 4th day as my shovel slid through another pocket of old lady wigs that I was solidified my desire to never ever have children. There would be no fruit born off my particular branch of my gnarled family tree. We were riddled with blight and root rot. My DNA was not something that I would wish on anyone else. Someone had to draw the line somewhere, and I was taking a stand. My baby factory was shut down. At least I was not contributing to the problem.

My uncle did not survive the clean up. Stripped of his Michelin man layers and dreads and stacked possessions that were a wall against the outside world, he was like a premie without an adequate immune system. He shrunk and deflated before our eyes, withering away by the day. He lost the will to live without his trash walls to protect him and was dead in under six months. His tiny body in the coffin, so different from his angry ranting knife carrying ways when he was alive, was an empty shell. All the crazy had leaked out and all I felt was pity. Well, and gratitude that he was dead because he was a huge pain in the ass that kept threatening to kill us all and would smear shit on the door handles in an attempt to keep us from entering the house to clean. Seeing as he had no dog, there was only one way that he could have continued access to fresh feces, but it was not a line of reasoning that I really wanted to pursue. Thank god for rubber gloves.

I still have the photos of my dead great uncle preening about in mumus and practical shoes. I keep them as a memento of paths that I do not want to wander down. He remains as a signpost of poor life decisions that I am happy I did not make. Bless his broken crazy heart, he was not meant for the rigors of this world.

 

unclejack

Loving London

The lovely London River entered the industry last year with the force of a nuclear bomb. I was the photographer for her first Insex shoot and first I didn’t think she was going to make it.

She showed up nervous and sweaty, as jittery as if she had slammed down 3 espressos in a row. I honestly had doubts she would get through the whole day. It was halfway through the second position, while she was folded in half like a pocketknife, that I saw her bloom and absolutely own her power. A star was born that day and we are all winners as a result.

I have watched her journey over the past year and I couldn’t be prouder of her. Today she models, she directs, she rigs, she is a photographer…she is the baddest of asses and the sweetest of hearts.

Recently I saw down to do an interview with her. If you want to get to know London River a bit more (and who wouldn’t?) check out the story of her journey here.

A picture is worth a thousand words

A picture is worth a thousand words, or so they say.

At least that was what I was thinking when I snapped a photo with my phone yesterday during a conversation. Rather than bother typing out “I am at Target getting cat food and bleach” to my texting buddy I thought I would just send a photo of the store to explain where I was. Save myself some time.

I stepped out of my car, fired off a quick pic of the outside of the Target where I was and then ducked back inside my car to send said photo.

I was not expecting the irate looking woman that came rushing up to my car but politely rolled down my window to see what was amiss. She seemed quite worked up.

“Are you taking photos of my daughter?” she demanded.

Out of anything that could have come out of her face, me being a sneaky parking lot pervert was not one I was expecting. I wanted to answer back “Yes, and I am going to run home and jack off to your kid right now.” just to highlight the ridiculousness of the situation, but I am working on practicing my diplomacy these days and I held back the snark.

I had no idea what she was talking about and told her as much. She pointed agitatedly at a car parked some 10 feet away. If I squinted really hard I could see a small white oval of a face in the backseat but that was about it. Hardly a fap worthy set up, even if I had been a pedophile.

I sat there looking at this worked up mama bear, and in the end I just felt sorry for her. Sorry that she lived in a world where she saw predators in every parking lot. Sorry that her world view actually factored in tall skinny blonde women that lurked around cars taking cell phone photos of blurs in distant vehicles so that they could run home and post said pics in a photo album to masturbate over. What would I have called such an album? “Blurs in far off cars”? Did she think there is an international pedo ring that swaps photos of kids in cars? “That looks like an underage eyebrow! I can hardly stand the excitement!!”

The ego to think her special snowflake of a child is so fap worthy that strangers are circling her vehicle in order to sneak shoot photos of it for future nefarious purposes was a bit off-putting but in the end I deleted the photo off of my phone in front of her because I just didn’t have the energy to battle the bear. She huffed off back to her car as I sat there in shock.

In no way am I saying don’t be vigilant with your children. Children are the most sacred responsibility a person will ever undertake. But seeing pedophiles behind every car creates alarmed and high strung children living in constant fear. And fear is not a good place to hang out in long term. It isn’t healthy.

I masturbate to many things. Children sitting in the backseats of distant cars is not one of them. And being accused of being the type of person that does fap over such things makes me not want to leave my house. Ordering off of Amazon is looking better and better these days, I am telling you…