After two years of planning, Sex Gets Real and I finally managed to sit down and do the podcast we had been talking about. I had a blast and am throwing up a link in case anyone wants to check it out. Here you go:
Curious about how to get started with your kinky journey? Wonder no more! I recently wrote up an intro article with some helpful advice and tips for newbies, as well as pitfalls to avoid. Here is the article if you are curious. Feel free to share it if you think it can help others.
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!
When we first get here, when we first arrive on this planet, we have no guilt or body shame. All of that comes later. Everything about us is acceptable and adorable and there is no shame in our naked bodies. We have to be trained into body shame, into the idea of “naughty zones” and “special” places, the “no touch” zone that must be kept covered and shielded from public gaze. We have to be housebroken and toilet trained, instilled with such deep fear and anxiety about bodily functions that the need to pee can wake us up out of a sound sleep. We have to be loaded up with all of the fear and anxiety and shame that civilization say that we need to function as “polite” society.
And yes, if we didn’t housebreak and shame children they would be running around rubbing their crotches and pooping in the hallway. Obviously there is a need to not have that happen. If only because random hallway pooping is hard on the carpet and reckless crotch rubbing leaves fluids everywhere. But the guilt and fear and shame around bodily functions lingers for the rest of that child’s life.
We are trained to be ashamed of our naked bodies, to feel self conscious of all the adult flaws that come out of that perfect child’s body. It becomes taboo to touch and be touched, the ease and comfort of a snuggling child turns into the personal space bubble of adulthood. But deep inside we still crave the freedom of youth before we were molded into shame. The ability to touch and be touched by others with no baggage is something we never stop wanting.
When we grow up, this desire for touch and intimacy can be met by sex, as sex is one of the most intimate things you can share with another human being, but all too often our baggage and shame and fear gets in the way of that. Sex is like a bodily function that needs to be kept away from polite society, something done behind closed doors and not talked about. The NEED for sex, like the need to relieve oneself, is a lower animal urge that we should do but never discuss.
Because sex is scary and terrifying and completely undignified. Have you *seen* yourself? You look bloody ridiculous. Red faced and sweaty and straining with a look on your face like you are sucking on a lemon. There is no dignity to be had in sex. And that is kind of the point. There is nothing erotic that isn’t, with the wrong person, completely revolting. But with the right person, at the right time, completely revealing your naked body with all of its flaws and imperfections and various fluids and smells leaking all over the place and mashing that body firmly against another human’s skin only feels like utter acceptance.
Sex is incredible because of the closeness it allows and the freedom it offers. Day to day life requires us to constantly be suppressing our urges and desires, to always be wearing a mask of civilization and self restraint, to stifle our lusts and darker urges. The bliss of sex is to be allowed to drop that mask and reveal our true natures to our partners, undignified animal urges and all, without fear of judgement.
The bond of togetherness grows deeper the more honest and truthful we can be with our partners…but it can also be terrifying to be that vulnerable to another human being. We struggle against the desire for closeness and acceptance and the fear of rejection and dismissal. To ask for sex is to ask another person to be naked and exposed to you, and to be rejected on such a request stings you to your very core.
It isn’t easy. I am not saying it is. The quest for acceptance and an end to loneliness is one of the hardest tasks you will ever undertake. But when you find that other person, that person that sets you at ease and accepts you and your flawed mind and body, it is fucking magic. That person that you can relax around and drop the socially approved mask? That person is a treasure. Hold onto them tight. Someone like that doesn’t come along every day.
Hi there. You might have heard of me. You might not have. That part doesn’t really apply to my point here.
But if you HAVE heard of me, you probably have heard of me as some sort of Professional Naked Person, one of those girls on the internet with her tits and ass splayed out all over the place. You have probably heard of me as a bondage and fetish model. Maybe even one of those fetish models that likes to do the more “hardcore” stuff. If you have heard of me.
And there is a funny thing that happens when you become one of those people that plasters their naked body all over the internet…it surprises the shit out of people when you have opinions. It is as if folks think you sign a contract when you become a Professional Naked Person that says “I will keep my mouth shut and my holes open. With an exception clause for open mouths when it comes to blow jobs.”
Here is the thing: I never signed any such contract.
So I kept on being me. And the me that I am happens to be a lot more than a bag of holes. I had opinions. I pondered shit. I talked about things that were on my mind. I gave advice. I tried to help people, educate, inspire, motivate. I grant that it might not be typical behavior for most models. But I never felt defined as a person because I have done some modeling.
Being a bag of holes with lots of opinions didn’t sit well with everyone out there. Many people reached out to inform me of this fact. Especially since one of the topics I happen to talk about and cover a lot is bullying, harassment and sexism. Porn stars griping about misogyny tends to be a boner killer. Nobody wants to fap to that.
But like I said, I have never defined who I am as a person because I have done some modeling. I wasn’t going to be quiet because it might kill a stranger’s boner.
And then something amazing started happening. People started reaching out to me. People I did not know. People started telling me that my willingness to speak up inspired them to do the same. That talking about and discussing the “uncomfortable” things gave them the courage to do the same in their own lives. Women would tell me that because of my writing they stood up for themselves for the first time when they got hassled. That they realized that was ok to advocate for your rights. That speaking up for yourself doesn’t make you “fussy” but rather makes you strong.
These stories take my breath away. They humble me. They awe me. If I have helped just one person on this planet then my time while I was here was worthwhile. And you know what? I think I have succeeded in doing just that. And it feels amazing. It makes my heart melt.
Not bad for an opinionated bag of holes, huh?
It is the stuff of Hollywood movies and endless books and articles. We grow up on the concept. It is fed to us from birth. The concept that your soul mate, your “better half”, is somehow going to come along someday and save you from yourself. That miracle person that is going to make your life so much better that the two of you are bleeding bliss and leaking rainbows of joy out of every orifice, locked in happiness.
What a horrible burden to lay on someone. What a recipe for disaster and disappointment. What could possibly go wrong with such a concept…other than everything?
Nobody can save you from yourself. And expecting them to do so will only end up in misery every single time.
Of course life is easier for most of us with a partner. A team mate. Someone to hang out with, talk to, fuck, cuddle, someone to support you through the good times and bad. Financially, mentally, emotionally and sexually, most of us find that life easier with a partner. Of course.
When you are walking around like a raw open wound, unable to deal with the endless grief that is simply functioning on this planet, and you are expecting your partner to be the hero to rescue you from yourself? Not only will your partner always let you down and not fix your wound, 100% of the time, but you can end up resenting them for failing to rescue you. And that resentment is a toxic killer that destroys relationships every single time.
So you move on to the next partner!! THIS is going to be the one! THIS is the one that will fix everything! But they don’t. They never do. They can not. And so the cycle continues. Over and over. You are never rescued. The other half always disappoints and you are always left wanting. The Hollywood myth of romance is just that, a myth.
Drop the myth. Do not expect that miracle person to come along and save you from yourself. Save your own damn self. And once you are not that raw open wound in desperate need of a band-aide, once you are not looking to be rescued, you will find that relationships get a hell of a lot easier and more satisfying. True story.
At this point in my life, I can safely say I have been around some dick in my day. One might go so far as to say that I am a bit of a cock wrangler. As in, I know me some dick. And today I am going to impart some cock knowledge upon you. The big one. The one that everyone stresses about. Are you ready? Here goes:
**Dicks are not light switches. They do not have only two modes, off and on.**
But people seem to think that that is the only two ways that cock comes. Hard or soft. On or off. Ready or offline. And the trauma if you want it hard and it does not cooperate? The horror. The misery.
I actually feel sorry for guys. On the whole, they are so dick centric that it is cock or GTFO. Dick dick dick and nothing else. Me? Just about everything makes me cum. My whole body is a sexual smorgasbord. I have cum from having my toes sucked on, fisting someone’s ass, getting my hipbone licked, getting my calves caned, watching other people fuck…the world is my sexual oyster. Men? If the dick isn’t in the “on” position they don’t seem to know what to do with themselves.
Folks? It isn’t all about the dick. The dick has a mind of its own. You can not control the dick. It will be hard, soft, semi, working, ignoring you, hard as a rock in front of your grandma at Christmas and squishy pudding in front of that hot girl that you crave sawing in half with your cock. It is not to be counted on.
But men can’t talk about these things. As far as they can tell, they are the only ones with a dick that they can’t control. Every other male out there is just a rampant battering ram that is busy tattooing his initials on every available cervix.
Us women? We know better. We are the ones hanging out with the cock, we know how it goes. We don’t stress on dick half as much as men do. I have seen dick in all of its states. And I love it every which way. If you are not presenting as a battle ax ready to do some serious damage, you have fingers, tongues and best of all, your mind. Get creative! Free yourself from the limits of the cock box. There is more to you than just a dick.
And while none of us can control the dick, women can help. My biggest secret is using one of my hands to form an impromptu cock ring at the base of the dick to help trap blood while giving a blowjob. If he is semi, see if you two can’t get it harder. If it is hard and fades, get that mouth and hands to work. And if the dick takes a vacation and is unavailable, don’t stress on it. Lord knows I don’t. If we aren’t banging today, we will probably be banging tomorrow. And as it is, I am naked and hanging out with someone I like. That isn’t a bad way to spend the day, no matter what happens…
And you will not like all of their flavors.
And that is okay.
You will meet some people that will take your breath away, where you click upon first very encounter, on a deep gut level, where you feel a delightful tingle and know they are kindred spirits of a like mind.
And you will meet people whose flavor is all wrong, whose taste is sharp and spiky and rancid in your psyche. Where every encounter rubs you the wrong way as if you are trying to make out with a porcupine.
And that is okay. There are over 7 billion people in this world, there is no way that you are going to get along with all of them.
Stay away from your own personal porcupines, give them space to go be sharp and spiky elsewhere. Cherish the ones you click with, hold them tight.
The magic ones, the ones that will take you on grand adventures and make your brain meat spark with pleasure, leaving you breathless and humming with endorphins and dopamine? Those are the people that you want to invest your precious time with.
Life is too short to spend interacting with unpleasant people, you don’t get back that time you spent resentfully in relationships, friendships and jobs that are not working for you. Yes, change is scary, moving forward can be terrifying and living in some stuck stasis can seem preferable to making that first step forward. I get it.
But there is magic waiting out there if you have the courage to look. Explore. Get lost. Get found. Grow. Learn. There are marvelous adventures out there awaiting you. All you need to do is take that first step forward. You will not regret it.
And keep dodging those damn porcupines.
Sex is, to me, an art form. It is my religion, my passion, a guaranteed and reliable path to altered consciousness. This may seem like odd new age bullshit to you. To the people that feel that way, to the people that view the sexual experience as insert tab A into slot B, you might as well check out now. If sex as a path to altered realties sounds like hippie drivel to you, this is not the essay for you.
Right then. Where were we? This is for the people that have stuck around.
I found out years ago how with the right partner under the right circumstances I could lose my fucking mind. This was an incredible revelation. I could literally use sex as an effective tool to lessen and even shut off the pain of existence. Minds. They can be a right pain in the ass most of the time. Are you telling me there are reliable tools and techniques that make me forget my name and see other realities? Why the fuck isn’t everyone doing this all the time??
Because fear. Because guilt. Because shame.
It turns out that people have epic levels of guilt and fear and shame associated with sex. Crippling amounts. All of that shame is a toxic stranglehold that kills what could of been an incredible experience with another human being. Your mind will not let go, it will not shut up. It chatters, it bitches, it floods you in anxiety and paranoia. What a waste of the precious limited time you have been given on this planet! You don’t get back the wasted hours you spent wallowing in fear and guilt.
People remark to me on a fairly consistent basis that I am somehow remarkable or different or inspiring. There is nothing different or remarkable about me except for one very important thing: I just do not give a fuck. I do not. Not even a little bit. I do not carry the baggage of shame or guilt or fear in my sexual experiences.
The not giving a fuck is a game changer. I just let go. I give it my all. I seek drooling oblivion. I seek becoming a Greek God with access to a different, primal universe. I seek to be blasted into levels where I am no longer physically able to sit up any longer. I seek to shut my mind right up. I have the tools, I know the path, I know how to get there.
It is when I try and take others on this journey that I can run into trouble. They panic, they can not let go, the fear creeps in. The shame and guilt pop up to poison the situation. “How do you do it?” they ask “How do you go that far? How do you not freak out?”
Because I simply do not give a fuck. It is just that simple.
None of this might make any sense to you. It might seem like I am talking nonsense. But there are one or two of you out there that just might get it. There is someone out there that will read this, chose to put the shame and fear down and also find that path to the altered realties. And when you are spent and twitching on the floor, eyes glassy, covered in sweat and drool and your mind a blissful beautiful paradise, the pain of day to day existence completely gone, as your brains ever so slowly trickle back into your skull you just might think of me for a moment, watching and wildly approving from the corner. You are welcome. It can be done. Show others and spread the knowledge.
Food for thought my friends. The feast is out there. Go for it.
I get it. I truly do. Your dick, your special trouser snake, that joy stick of happiness, is the most magical dick in all of the land. There is no other dick like it in the entire world. Never mind that 50 percent of people on the planet have one. Never mind that for the vast bulk of women, they care more about the man that the dick is attached to then the flesh tube dangling there and occasionally getting stuck to your thigh on a hot day.
Your trouser snake is so magical that the mere sight of it when flung into stranger’s inboxes will immediately reduce them into a cock craving frenzy. They will not be able to think straight until they have their sweaty lil paws all over your manmeat.
Except not really.
Dick is somewhat lower on a woman’s priority list. They actually care more about if you have your shit together, if you have a job, if you are confident, if you have some sort of skill set, if you are a functioning human being. Few and far between are the women that are so cock obsessed that the only thing that matters is the peen. That completely discount the dude attached to the dick and only care about what you are packing.
But you know who really really likes cock shots?
All over the world, your poorly lit cock shots with a tv remote thoughtfully included for size comparison are being completely ignored by women and eagerly consumed by cock craving gay guys. So by all means, keep flinging out your erect man meat photos all over the internet. But know the eyeballs appreciating them are usually not quite the target market you were aiming for…