Categories: 4th wall break, feral musings, mental vomit, not a slut story

Sometimes I wonder if people have noticed the lack of new updates on here. I wonder if anyone who noticed is disappointed by it. Dismayed by how the site has hung here, still technically live, but sitting stale & untouched for months. Like an abandoned house, filled with horny ghosts.

Please don’t think I live with the belief that I have an audience of clamoring fans eagerly awaiting my next blog post, I have no delusions about how many (few?) people read my little stories. However I can’t deny it garners a small viewership of sorts. That handful of people are the ones I think of when I wonder if anyone wonders where the fuck the author of this offense to literature went.

This update is for those people.

Hi. First and foremost, I suck. I haven’t totally stepped out of the confines of writer’s/slut’s block yet, but I’m getting there and writing this pitiful apology/update post is a shaky step in the right direction.

The last year has been enlightening to say the least. I’ve been trying to think of how I wanted to pull you all along with me for the ride. The topics I’ve embedded myself into are tricky to write about well without stepping on anyone’s dick along the way. It always has been, but add the club element into everything & it’s like a whole new world opens up. One that has very different rules, regulations, customs & traditions from how the rest of society does things, sluts or not.

You want to be honest, but you have to do it carefully because of how easily people on the outside looking in can and will twist your words to make their own point stick better.

While taking all that into consideration I made the decision many journalists & diarists have before me: the stories are just too damn good to go untold. So I’m diving back into it as much as I can.

Don’t be surprised if some older entries get re-writes* or if another flood of new drafts start to appear. The goal right now is to write every day even if I don’t make it public/publish it. Something is better than nothing & I’ve learned often times (at least with how my brain works) the thing you sit down to write, isn’t what ends up being your focus. But as long as you’re writing then you’re doing what you’re supposed to: furiously scratching the fuck out of that itch every creative person gets when they know they NEED to create. I’ve found it’s a similar feeling to craving a drug. That deep set physical longing to write or draw or make music or art. A similar deep set longing I think everyone who’s ever worn the title “addict” or proclaimed to be newly in love can also describe. Whether that’s for good or not isn’t something I could tell you yet, but it’s definitely been more productive than drug or human I’ve felt the same about.

So here’s to 2023, lets fuck this bitch right on up.

*feel free to keep a running log, nothing with be omitted/changed that’s already in there – I just think a lot of the older entries need cleaned up

Swan Song (feat. Scott Vogel) // 3:12 – 3:28

Categories: mental vomit, SWer stories

When you did it for a means to an end. And I’ve learned to not be ashamed of anything that I’ve done. And that my todays and my yesterdays, they can be my business, but I can share with the world. Don’t be ashamed of them. Learn something from it.” – Kublai Khan

It’s insanely hard to condense 10+ years of online sex work into a few blog posts. And while I still plan to attempt to remember & write down as many of them as I can, I feel like my “one foot on the platform, the other foot on the train” exit from the industry is fresh enough to be written about first.

A lot of questions I’ve gotten regarding my job that flood back to me when I think about the last two years I actively created new content. The most prevalent one is “don’t you think you’ll regret it someday?” and a year or so on the outside looking in has taught me that I don’t. If anything it was essential to discovering who I actually am.

But there’s pics of your _____ on the internet. What if someday you want to delete them?” is another one that’s came up a lot over the years. And the answer to that is simple: vanity. I was hot as hell in a lot of the content spread around & I’m pretty proud of it. I don’t see that changing anytime soon, possibly ever. I’m unphased (even slightly elated) by the idea I (and many other perverts) unintentionally created a time capsule devoted to my naked body dispersed all around the lovely series of tubes we call the internet. You just have to know a few keywords & Google does the heavy lifting to find the rest.

The only regrets I have about my time floating around the slutty side of the internet is I didn’t do more with what I had & I trusted the absolute wrong people way too often. But again, I learned A LOT.

A lot of the skills I have regarding coding, largely came from being frustrated with the sites I was working on not offering resources to offer more. My tolerance for and ability to sniff out bullshit were honed to a fine point. I made friends who were more supportive than a younger version of me deserved. And in a way it (softly) introduced J & I to the idea of non-monogamy.

Hell, the small-but-mighty fan base that lasted with me for all those years from camming to clips to whatever hell else I could try, were the first steady visitors to this blog!

Then MasterCard shit the bed. It had been going south (for me personally and the industry as a whole) for awhile, but once the religious right got the ear of the payment processors, the party was over for me. They started banning innocuous acts as indecent & making arbitrary rules in the name of “protecting the children” when statistically a kid is WAY more likely to get groomed and hurt on any given social media site than a porn one, especially those that are paywalled. Those same sites also (statistically) have more CSAM on them than porn sites, again, because ID & consent forms are a requirement, even on the biggest tube sites.

Being the asshole I am, the regulations didn’t make me immediately throw up my hands & quit. I decided I’d try one last time with a video idea that I was obsessed with.

I got a reputation in the camming community early on for having a blasphemy kink. Years of your childhood dedicated to being indoctrinated into something you (loudly) neither trusted nor believed will do that.

Fuck it.

I figured if any video was going to get me booted the fuck off clip sites or wrist-slapped, the one I had in mind definitely would.

To be totally honest, it’s easier if I just show you instead of trying to describe it. It was my final fuck you, my magnum opus of smut.

And it was immediately taken down for hate speech.

In the usual fashion I took my defeat on the chin and immediately DM’d XHamster to describe the video and see if it would be allowed to be hosted on their platform.

The support person scoffed & said “Of course!

It was a tiny shred of victory in the mountain of defeat that I felt like I was climbing down from.

I uploaded it, shared it everywhere I could and just…stopped. I was done. I had taken all I could between the sites I worked on, the assholes I dealt with & the mental damage taken from putting your all into something only to have it flop, fail or be told it can’t be hosted because it’s “indecent“.

A decade plus of trying to find my way & the straw that broke the camel’s back was being told that I, as someone who has seen the ugly face Western religion wears when you lift up it’s church hat veil, was not allowed to fuck a bible.

Fine. I’ll take my ball & go play elsewhere. Elsewhere just happened to be here, on this weird little blog. Granted the pay is A LOT less, but until they fully remove my content from all the clip sites it’s scattered around on I still make a couple bucks here and there from sales when people stumble across them.

Don’t get me wrong, I still do a private Snapchat story or the odd custom video, but I can’t imagine I will ever go back to making content at that level ever again.

No matter how much I may not like the idea someday (though I doubt it), nothing on the internet is ever actually deleted. What goes on the internet, stays on the internet. Thanks to Google & porn pirates, if the internet exists, I’m sure my slutty little time capsule stays intact.