New posts every Tuesday, Thursday and Sunday!

Foot fetish shoot

The thing I love about modelling and porn performance, the thing that keeps me in love with it, is getting to do new things on camera.

Don’t get me wrong – I love going deep as well as wide. I adore the fact that running my own website allows me to explore spanking, my primary fetish, year after year; to delve more deeply, and in more detail, into the psychology of my kink than than I ever dreamed possible.

But that long-term fulfilment – the profound satisfaction of going further up and further in – is different from the exhilaration of the new. Getting the chance to explore something completely novel, something that isn’t my kink at all, in the safe space of playing a character on camera… that’s what gets me bouncing up and down with excitement again. It’s the pleasurable shock of dipping my toe in the water; the thrill of realising afresh that as long as I’m performing in porn, I will never stop expanding my horizons.

On Friday I filmed my first ever foot fetish scene, and I had a wonderful time. Silk Soles, the romantic, barefoot fetish site of premier glamour bondage producer Hywel Phillips, put a call out that they were looking to buy clips, and I decided to give it a whirl. I researched by browsing the site and watching the free trailers that Hywel sent me.

I’m fascinated and delighted by the endless variety of human sexuality. I genuinely believe that no fetish is abhorrent. Inside the privacy of your own head and the safe space of fantasy erotica, anything goes – and the more unexpected it is, the more pleasure I take in learning about it. It’s incredible what we as humans can be aroused by, and I take it as a sign of our beautiful capacity for imagination. Whenever I start to wonder if I’ve seen it all, something new will come along and surprise me – and I love it.

I was intrigued to learn that in the bare foot fetish, it’s not the smooth lines of an arched foot that appeal – like an arched back, with your tummy held in and your bottom pushed out. Rather, at Silk Soles the Platonic ideal of a bare foot is the crinkled sole caused by pointing your toes. I would never have guessed this – which only made it more interesting.

Pandora Blake's bare feet

We had lovely natural light for the shoot. The concept was a fun solo scene with me flirting with the camera, playfully inviting the camera to massage my feet, worship them… or perhaps tickle them, or even use the crop on my sensitive soles. In addition to the talking-to-camera bits we also made sure we got lots of shots of my bare feet, particularly the soles – toes pointed, of course. I guess this is the equivalent of the long, lingering close-ups of punished bottoms on Dreams of Spanking.

After shooting each close-up my camera man and I watched the clip back to see what we could improve on, and I noted that I was moving my feet too much. The amount of movement which looks good on screen is always less than feels natural. So I ended up lying on my tummy with a glass of wine in my hand, moving as little as possible while the camera embarked on a slow zoom on my exposed soles. I could only hear my soft breathing in the silence as I focussed all my awareness on my feet, trying to move them minutely, languidly; enough to seem alive, but not so much that I seemed restless.

It wasn’t until the shot came to an end that I realised that for the whole duration my attention had been completely centred on a tiny area of my body. This is the sort of focus that I struggle to achieve in yoga, and it had happened organically. I hadn’t had a thought in my head; I had been completely unselfconscious, and had no idea what expression had been on my face. It was a pure, meditative moment in time, of absolute concentration on my feet – the subject of the lens.

That sort of moment is magic. They turn up unexpectedly sometimes in modelling, breathing deeply to relax into a pose – but this had been a much more peaceful stillness, without any exertion or discomfort. I’ve reached that place standing in cornertime before, all thoughts emptied from my head; or in the absolute, centred embodiment I feel when I’m taking a caning. But this time there had been no spanking, no pain, only a languid, positive focus on one small part of my body. It was a beautiful place to be.

Spanked by Clare Fonda

While I was touring the US in April I had the privilege of working not once but twice with the lovely folks at Clare Fonda Worldwide. Four of my scenes are now up – one on My Spanking Roommate, two on Spanked Callgirls, and one on Spanking Veronica Works.

My scene on the spanking soap My Spanking Roommate was with Madison Martin, continuing the storyline in which Madison has been kicked out of her apartment by Kay Richards. I play a lawyer whom she approaches for advice about filing a lawsuit against Kay. Unfortunately I’m a totally incompetent lawyer who has barely finished law school, and after failing to get any useful advice from me, a frustrated Madison gives me a sound spanking with hand and a wooden ruler. Outraged, I eventually struggle free and get my own back on cute, curvy Madison.

In my first scenes on Spanked Callgirls, I play the new girl at the agency, fresh from England, who hasn’t been told how things work by the other girls. I visit Courtney while she’s operating the phones and ask if there’s any new work for me. She tells me she has a bone to pick with me, that she’s found out I’m charging less than the going rate and undercutting all the other girls. It turns out that the exchange rate between pounds and dollars is very confusing! Courtney won’t have me stealing business from under her and everyone who has been there longer, so she turns me over her knee to drive the message home. However Courtney’s rude manner and increasingly loony lecturing irritates me so much that I decide she needs teaching a lesson in turn.

This film gave me a great excuse to wear my favourite sexy cocktail dress – which seems to have been designed to call attention to my bottom. I love it.

Courtney may be tiny, but I quickly discovered that she has hidden strength – she can certainly hold her own in a tussle, and her spankings really hurt!

When I came back to shoot again a week later, I got the chance to follow up this scenario with the Madam of Spanked Callgirls herself – Clare Fonda. My first time working with Clare Fonda – and not only did I get spanked by her, I got to spank her, too! Be still my beating heart.

When Clare returns to the agency, I visit her office and complain about about the way Courtney punished me. Clare is not interested until I give her a hands-on demonstration by giving her a hard spanking with hand and a wooden ruler. But Clare strikes back and shows me that the madam is not to be trifled with.

This time my dress was even more revealing…

Finally, there’s a new scene on Veronica Ricci’s goofy site Spanking Veronica Works, in which Veronica tries out increasingly quirky careers and always ends up getting spanked. In ‘Red Herring’ I play a supplier who orders fresh produce for restaurants. When I visit Veronica’s office, I believe I am placing a large order of “herring.” Whacked-out drug queen Veronica thinks I’m after a huge order of something that sounds vaguely similar. The accent barrier results in a serious hand spanking for both of us – and an eventual promise of no police involvement.

Pandora Blake spanked by Veronica Ricci

Veronica was huge fun to work with, and the roleplay certainly kept me on my toes. But my personal highlight has to be the scene with Clare. She gives a spanking to die for – and taking her over my knee was a huge rush. I hope the scenes all turned out well, we had such fun making them!

Spanking – the ultimate mood changer

Spanked for sulking

It was D’s birthday this week. Birthday spankings aren’t generally on the menu when it’s his turn to be spoiled – they aren’t exactly his core erotic theme. But we did both take the day off work so we could devote it to pleasures of the flesh. Good food, lots of kinky sex, and a certain amount of lounging around on the sofa… the perfect self-indulgent day.

I came to his place the night before with a bag of toys. No spanking implements, true – but we were still going to have a good time.

Birthday toys for the birthday boy

By the time I arrived I’d been messaging him, texting and calling for a few hours without getting through or receiving a reply – even though I knew he was at home on his computer. I’d wanted to ask him about food plans that evening, and what he wanted me to bring. Since I couldn’t get through, I ended up bringing everything I thought he might enjoy.

Unfortunately, I also brought a bad mood with me. I was pissed off with him for not replying to my messages. He apologised, and I knew I was being irrational and needed to snap out of it so we could get on with the more important business of celebrating his birthday. But I couldn’t shake off my sulk.

“I think you might have to spank it out of me,” I told him as we snuggled. He laughed, but he knew as well as I did that it was the best way to alter my mood.

So he spanked me. And guess what? It worked! A few short minutes later, I wasn’t sulking any more.

My bottom after D spanked my sulkiness out of me

In fact, as soon as I went over his lap I felt the tension start to ease out of my body. After about a minute of spanking, he remarked that I sounded more giggly than sulky – clearly it had already worked. I didn’t want the spanking to end yet, so I pouted and told him I was still sulking, a bit. But I think we both knew I was lying.

It’s remarkable how effective spanking can be to change your emotional direction. It wasn’t just the pain, grounding me in my body, giving me something to focus on, stimulating adrenaline and endorphins to perk me up. It was the feeling of being looked after, tended to. I already knew I was being silly, but the emotional experience of being feeling cared for enough that he would discipline me was the kick I needed to get over my bad mood.

My bottom after D spanked my sulkiness out of me

Afterwards I glimpsed my bottom and was surprised and pleased to discover that it was pink. I snapped a selfie in the bedroom mirror. He came in while I was taking it, laughed at me, and got out a wooden paddle, telling me to bend over and put my hands on the bed. I shrieked in outrage, squirming under a flurry of stingy paddle swats.

“What, I’m not allowed to take photos now?”

“No, I’m helping,” he corrected me. “I’m making you more pink.”

My bottom after D spanked my sulkiness out of me

So it wasn’t exactly a birthday spanking… but it did put me in a very good mood for the rest of his celebrations. We didn’t use all the toys I brought, of course. I wanted to wear my new kitty ears, and he picked out sheer black holdups and shiny high heels to go with them, so in the end my outfit was rather minimal.

I loved being a sex kitty. I crawled into the living room on all fours to show him I was ready, and when he pulled out his erection I smiled and cheekrubbed it before taking it in my mouth. I was a happy purring kitty. I also discovered a new fetish: cleaning cum off my face by licking the side of my hand and rubbing my cheeks with it, catlike. Miaow!

I'm a sex kitty! Miaow!

BBW 2014, Friday – flying higher and higher

My posts remembering Boardwalk Badness Weekend at the end of my April US tour have been a bit delayed – and everyone’s about to come back from Shadow Lane and start talking all about that – but if it’s not too late to pick up the thread, I still have some stories to share.

At the end of my last post, I fell asleep shortly before dawn after an incredible first night of play. But that was only the beginning – the rest of the weekend was about to get even more epic.

After five hours sleep, day two kicked off with a fun scene between me, Zoe Montana and a good friend I’ve played with before. The roleplay was hot and goofy by turns (sometimes both at the same time!) with our friend making the most endearing faces in his little boy role, switching wickedly between innocent schoolboy and knowing kinkster, as well as between top and bottom. Here’s Zoe’s lovely bottom after he and I had teamed up to turn it a fetching shade of pink:

Zoe Montana spanked at Boardwalk Badness Weekend

Afterwards we went for lunch to the Hard Rock Cafe in the Taj Mahal and I compensated for lost sleep by filling my belly with steak.

I had a session booked after lunch, a switch roleplay with John G. After standing me in front of him for a good telling-off, naked and pretend-embarrassed, he surprised me halfway through the scolding with the gentle intensity of his big, blue eyes. Without intending to I found myself slipping into genuine submission. This is so rare for me in professional play that it might be the second time it’s ever happened. It made for an amazing scene: despite the growing soreness in my bottom I wriggled my way happily through a hand spanking, strapping and caning from John.

Standing in the corner after my punishment, I glanced discreetly at the clock and dropped out of character to let John know that our hour would be up in ten minutes. There wouldn’t be much time for us to switch as planned – but luckily he proposed that we extend the session. After a quick negotiation we settled back in with an extra half hour in hand. I was very glad he made the decision as I moved swiftly into my top role and took him firmly over my knee.

While he was over the bed moaning under my belt, I heard a noise outside the door and went to open it. It was Zoe, reasonably thinking that we would be finished. She explained she needed to fetch her badge to be allowed into the Friday meet and greet, and I asked if she wanted to stop for a few minutes and watch John be punished. “I can’t think of anything better!” she declared, flinging herself onto the bed and beaming with delight.

The roleplay relaxed as we all giggled with the mutual thrills of exhibitionism and voyeurism, and John’s punishment was concluded with a hugely satisfying twelve with the cane.

After that I had to spend a bit of time on my laptop to make the preview images for the week’s Dreams of Spanking film, which I’d edited in LA and which was going up that evening. Then it was time to move all my materials to my stall for the vendor’s fair, and Zoe and John Beecroft enthusiastically pitched in to help.

I didn’t have as much with me to sell as I’d wanted. I hadn’t had the time or resources to author new DVD titles in Los Angeles as I’d planned, so I was selling the same four films as in Spain 2012, the same postcards and gift certificates, without the fine art prints I’d had to bulk out my stall that year. But on the other hand, this fair had cost me barely any labour (unlike the Spain stall, my only other vendor’s fair to date, for which I had to create all my stock from scratch). The only cost this time was shipping, which had been stupidly high. Next time I sell in the US, I will order things printed there rather than shipping them across the Atlantic.

Zoe was in her element, helping me arrange our cobbled-together stall dressings of hotel bed covers and coloured scarves. She added an inkwell made out of a cloven hoof which she had bought on her travels as a gift for a friend – a surreal and wonderful crowning detail. She quickly proved to have a gift for sales as she popped open DVD boxes to stand them upright and arranged everything artistically. Her presence worked wonders as she spent the evening gliding around in fabulous Victoriana, enthusiastically selling my work to everyone who passed by. I wore jodphurs, leather boots and a dazzled smile as I shook the hands and handed DVDs to customers she sent my way.

DVDs from Dreams of Spanking

We sold far more than I’d expected, even enough to cover my costs after the ludicrously expensive shipping. I exchanged some of my new shiny dollar bills for two stingy tawses from the Correction Collection. I don’t like tawses, personally, and would have preferred to buy a new strap or soft flogger – but I often find myself needing a lighter tawse for sessions or shoots, so it was time to fill the gap in my toybox.

I hadn’t made it to the meet and greet earlier, so this was my chance to say hello to people I hadn’t seen yet. New arrivals, old friends: Judy and her partner, Indy who I couldn’t wait to introduce to Zoe, Sarah Gregory and John Osborne, and Emma Bishop, whom I engaged to shoot for Dreams of Spanking (although I’m so far ahead with shooting that it won’t be until 2015).

There was a a surprise meeting: Pink of the Barely Pink Report, taller, more redhaired and rosy cheeked than I’d imagined her, and every bit as sexy and charming. Although we had never met before we swept each other into a long, shrieking hug, and gazed into each other’s eyes as we told each other how much we admired each other. It was good to meet her boyfriend too; a twinkling gentleman with a lovely energy and a dry sense of humour. It was so great to see everyone. I felt giddy with happiness.

Then packing up the stall, back to the room and getting changed for the evening into a backless purple dress with a loose cowl neck, perfect for a quick flash of my tits to shock unsuspecting friends and make them grin. It was 11pm and the next eight hours were a continual rush of play.

I entered Dirk’s suite with a bag of implements and found Zoe bending NaughtyMichael over the end of the bed, spanking him and making him talk in his terrible approximation of an English accent as he promised to be good and begged her not to cane him. I sat cross-legged on the bed and grinned and grinned, holding Michael’s hands, encouraging both of them and feeling myself be nourished by the energy of the scene, growing larger than life as it streamed into me like the jet of air that expands a balloon into its proper shape.

Zoe and I stayed in that room for a long time, letting the energy build and swirl and crackle around us, charging the air with eddies of eroticism. We bent Judy and Indy over the end of the bed and double topped them with hands and straps as friends and boyfriends sat and watched. Then Pink took their place – and a long, slow, sensual scene unfurled which started with her partner and I strapping her, one on each side (Zoe: “You both strap her and every now and then, I’ll swoop in for a rub!”) and which culminated in Zoe and her partner double belting Pink as hard as they could, while I sat on the bed, stretching my legs either side of her body and cradling her head in my lap. I looked into her eyes and drank in the ecstatic energy of her thrashing, gave her deep, erotically charged kisses, swirled the energy around and fed it back to her twofold.

Later I double-topped Tattoo_Fairy with Zoe. She’d picked me up from the airport and we’d talked about kink, BDSM and punch play. I’d tried punching for the first time with Zahra Stardust in Toronto, and now I fell into it with enthusiasm, punching and slapping and stroking TF’s bottom with rhythm and vigour until my fists were sore.

And so the night passed – fizzing with energy, flirting, people coming and going, stopping for kisses and cuddles; the erotic energy, the adrenaline and the oxytocin soaring until I was flying so high I never thought I’d come down.

Zoe Montana at Shadow Lane

I’ve been to a couple of different American spanking parties now, but I still haven’t made it to the longest-running and best known of all – Shadow Lane, run by the good folks who operate the spanking production company of the same name. The 2014 Shadow Lane spanking party is this coming weekend, Aug 26-31, at a casino hotel in Las Vegas. Eve Howard writes:

Part of the magic of being into an esoteric fetish is that it allows otherwise ordinary people to engage together in what are, by our lights, glamorous and exciting activities. Movie stars at Cannes don’t have more fun than cute girls in plaid skirts at spanking balls. It isn’t possible to be more excited than a spanking enthusiast is at the prospect of meeting someone they’ve been corresponding with for months and finally playing out a fantasy scenario with them, either one on one or with an audience. Actually getting to play, after dreaming about playing one’s whole life, is everything.

There is certainly something magical about the big US spanking parties. The sheer scale of them is both exhilarating and validating. When you’re among hundreds of over spanking enthusiasts in a big, glitzy venue, with lunches and balls and cocktail parties scheduled, it’s hard to feel alone – or as if your tastes are something to be ashamed of.

I’m hoping to be able to experience Shadow Lane for myself sometime, but meanwhile I wanted to give a plug to my friend Zoe Montana who will be there this year. Zoe is flying all the way from Australia to attend the party – no mean effort given it feels like she only just got home from Boardwalk Badness! Clearly she had so much fun that she can’t wait to experience the delights of a big US spanking party a second time. It’s a long way to come when you don’t know many people on the scene – I hope that all the Shadow Lane partygoers reading this will give her a very warm welcome.

Zoe Montana - traditional English discipline

While at the party, Zoe is offering private 121 spanking sessions to help fund her travel costs. If you are considering booking playtime with a professional at Shadow Lane, I can’t think of anyone better. Zoe is an accomplished switch who feels equally at home on the top or on the bottom, and she administers a spanking as well as she gives one. She spent years playing on the English spanking scene before she moved back to Australia, and is ferociously accurate with the cane as well as leather, wood and other CP implements.

Relaxed, funny, a brilliant roleplayer – Zoe has charm and warmth enough to put anyone at ease. You might not have considered paying a professional for spanking play before, but it’s worth doing: when you are paying, you are 100% the focus of the session, with your fantasies, needs and desires taking priority. The negotiation and compromise of playing with someone you meet at a party can lead to rewarding scenes, and I recommend doing that too, but it takes time and effort, and you may well end up servicing your playmate’s kink rather than getting your own needs met. Just like it’s nice to pay for a massage from time to time, there are few things more self-indulgent than hiring an experienced professional to bring your fantasy to life and blow your mind.

Zoe Montana - traditional English discipline

Zoe loves being spanked and is well-known as a bottom, and she is a fun and witty roleplayer. But I have to give my personal vote of confidence to her expertise as a domme. Zoe is one of my favourite tops, and one of the few people on the planet I trust enough to submit to. She is equally at home giving a strict telling off, a judicial punishment or a sensual pleasure spanking. You can see us playing together at Dreams of Spanking – I think this scene is probably my favourite, but there are plenty of hot moments to whet your appetite.

Of course, if you can’t choose between sub or domme, you could always book her for a switch session and enjoy the best of both worlds!

Zoe Montana - traditional English discipline

I wish I was able to join Zoe at Shadow Lane this year, but I’ve told her she has to have extra fun for me, and spank and get spanked enough for both of us. I’ll be helping D celebrate his birthday while you’re all having fun in Vegas, but I look forward to reading all the blog reports from the party next week. In the meantime, if you’re going to Shadow Lane and see Zoe around, please do say hi!

Loving discipline with James and Korey Johnson

My Sweet Wife - loving discipline with Korey Johnson and James Johnson at Northern Spanking

While I was staying in Los Angeles with Alex and Paul I was privileged to be present on Korey and James Johnson’s first ever spanking shoot. James and Korey are a scene couple whom I have really enjoyed getting to know at spanking parties in the US over the last few years. They are married with a real life domestic discipline dynamic, in which James uses spanking and other forms of corporal punishment to correct Korey if she breaks an agreement they have made, or acts in a way that is detrimental to her own wellbeing.

Neither James nor Korey had ever appeared in a spanking video, although they both certainly have the looks for it. However they are both exhibitionists and scene players who have played a lot at spanking parties, and who both find the experience of playing in front of an audience to be very exciting. Although neither of them is interested in making spanking videos professionally, they decided that they would be interested in trying it together for the sake of the experience.

The scene was based on a real life incident in which Korey had been instructed to take her medication according to a certain schedule, and failed to do so. As a disciplinarian James is firm but fair, with a strong nurturing streak, calling his young wife pet names and terms of endearment even as he punishes her. This is loving discipline at its most authentic.

My Sweet Wife - real life discipline with Korey Johnson and James Johnson at Northern Spanking

Korey is adorable – I’ve thought so for a long time anyway, but she’s particularly so in this film, initially trying to wriggle her way out of trouble by making cute remarks, then gradually surrendering to James’ authority. When James tells her to undress she is deliciously vulnerable, standing shyly before him, naked and pleading.

As James begins his solid, implacable hand spanking, quickly pinkening her bottom while calmly scolding her all the while, she is clearly trying to be obedient but can’t help whimpering and protesting. Korey is a wriggler, and she squirms beautifully over her husband’s knee, her body reacting involuntarily to the pain. But James knows how to keep her in position – and with firm hands and, eventually, a leg lock, he holds her in place until he considers her to be well punished and truly sorry.

My Sweet Wife - real life discipline with Korey Johnson and James Johnson at Northern Spanking

This is a beautiful representation of a real life loving discipline dynamic, and James and Korey are a pleasure to watch. The full film is now available at Northern Spanking, and it’s well worth a look – especially since it might be the only spanking film James and Korey ever make.


Sinful Sunday – pleasuring Zahra

Spanking Zahra Stardust

For this week’s Sinful Sunday I wanted to share a sexy moment from a very special film which I shot at the Feminist Porn Awards in Toronto this April. I opened the video to capture a screengrab from one of my favourite bits – but I ended up with so many amazing captures I couldn’t choose just one.

Zahra Stardust is one of the coolest porn stars on the planet – Australian pole dance champion, Penthouse Pet and political candidate for the Australian Sex Party – for House of Representatives, Senate, and for Lord Mayor of Sydney. She is a performer/producer of queer ethical porn, an activist, artist and she is studying for a PhD on pornography. An awesome woman and it was a huge pleasure to meet her.

In this collaborative film she expressed her curiosity about spanking… and confessed that she also loved to have her bottom punched and squeezed. Here I am after giving her a luxurious over the knee pleasure spanking and leather strapping, pummelling her perfect dancer’s bottom while she brings herself to orgasm with the Hitachi.

Explicit queer porn - Pandora Blake spanking and punching Zahra Stardust while she brings herself to orgasm
Explicit queer porn - Pandora Blake spanking and punching Zahra Stardust while she brings herself to orgasm Explicit queer porn - Pandora Blake spanking and punching Zahra Stardust while she brings herself to orgasm
Explicit queer porn - Pandora Blake spanking and punching Zahra Stardust while she brings herself to orgasm

Click on the photos to enlarge. You can watch this queer, feminist porn film – celebrating genuine, kinky female pleasure – at Dreams of Spanking and The Explicit Diary of Zahra Stardust. This film was a collaboration between me, Zahra and Ms Naughty, and will also shortly be available at Bright Desire.

Sinful Sunday

Erotic magic (expand, contract)

Annie Sprinkle: the Neo-Sacred Prostitute

It’s too hot for spanking sessions. London in the summer means hot tubes, buses, crowds and sweat. I love the heat if I can spend the day in my cool flat with the patio doors open, or out in the open air, but public transport and busy streets are pretty unpleasant.

The heat makes me lazy. Getting up in the morning before a day of domme sessions, I feel flat and lethargic. It’s a deliberate effort to psych myself up, find my toppy mojo. My usual pre-work grooming rituals help me get into a work headspace – showering, shaving my body hair even if it won’t be visible. An elegant summer dress, matching jewellery, and I feel more prepared to face the world. Presence is assembled slowly, layer by layer.

For me it’s the downtime before work that helps me find my focus – the meditative calm of washing, brushing, dressing, packing my implements. It takes time to muster erotic energy; if I was trying to answer emails or edit video up until the last minute I wouldn’t be able to do it.

Since learning the language of conscious kink this year, I’ve been inspired to introduce certain aspects of my private practice into professional sessions. I’m agnostic/atheist/humanist these days, but in my late teens and early twenties I learned a lot of ritual magic. I’m starting to discover how valuable the skills of grounding and centering, energy manipulation, breath, creating a ritual space and establishing intention can be to mindful spanking play. If I have a client who seems distracted, nervous, self-conscious or not fully present for whatever reason, I can use ritual to bring them into their body and help them open up to me.

I have lots to learn, I know, but even making it up as I go along using my old tantric and neo-pagan knowledge seems to be remarkably effective. A ritual of deliberate embodiment lays the groundwork for unexpected intimacy and erotic connection. It hasn’t failed me yet.

After a session like this, even after taking the time to wind down and disperse the energy, I leave the venue glowing with erotic magic. I walk down the street feeling like I’m floating, like I’m ten foot tall, as if light was shining out of my pores. I feel expanded, wide open, alert to every spark of sexuality. I am hyper-aware of every physical presence I pass in the street. Lust flares as I step towards someone, gaze at them, walk by. Brief moments of eye contact with strangers feel like tiny electric shocks.

Then I remember: this is London, the city of overcrowding and metropolitan blindness and never making eye contact, the city where you have to draw yourself so effectively within the boundary of your own skin that pressing sweaty physical contact with strangers on the tube doesn’t feel intrusive. This is the city where if you were to lie in bed and open your awareness up and out over the streets, rising up as you grow aware of every consciousness flickering below, you would quickly be overwhelmed by the intensity and volume of that many sapient beings squeezed in together and working living eating talking shouting dancing fucking puking running playing laughing crying singing swearing all on top of each other, in dozens of different languages, all the time.

This is the city where you close yourself up, look down, walk on by. It is not a place to walk down the street in rush hour broadcasting sexual energy like a beacon, with your receptors wide open, trailing long feelers of erotic magic that curl outward towards passers-by in search of openings and connections. That is not appropriate metropolitan behaviour.

So I reel it all back in, pull it down and button up the edges. I breathe out, deflate, close the shutters and contract. It takes an hour or so to tuck in every last tendril, but once I’ve finished drawing my energies back into my body and dimming the intensity to usual human operating levels, I’ve settled back down to my normal mundane self. Back to normal, like a good little city-dweller. Until next time.

Hyperkinks: scandalous literature, feminist porn and sex positivity


  • On Thursday I was lucky enough to be present at my friend Nimue Allen‘s most intense, ambitious scene yet – a forced headshaving fantasy incorporating psychological torture, betrayal, degredation, cold caning, belly punching, water torture and more. It was an ultra-small crew, just me, Nimue, her top (The Boss), and one other camera operator (her partner Rosie), which made the whole thing very intimate. It was one of the most electrically intense BDSM scenes I have ever taken part in, and I was honoured to hold space and bear witness as Nimue pushed herself to her limit.

Nimue Allen before her forced headshaving scene - photo by Pandora BlakeNimue Allen after her forced headshaving scene - photo by Pandora Blake
Twelve cold cane strokes for Nimue Allen from Pandora Blake


Daily Male Objectification on tumblr


  • It’s official guys, casual sex IS good for you, according to new study. “When it came to those who were sociosexually unrestricted, having casual sex was associated with higher self-esteem and life satisfaction and lower depression and anxiety.”
  • Some good stuff in this post Identifying As Sex Positive. “To really understand the term sex-positive, it needs to be contextualized in the history of sexual characterization.”
  • A fantastic post from queer porn star Chelsea Poe: Realness. “Like it or not porn is the biggest place in our society where trans people are visible.”
  • A few days ago it was the anniversary of the death of Petite Jasmine, a swedish sex worker who was murdered last year. Social services had taken her children away several years previously because she was a sex worker. Custody was given to her abusive ex who threatened and stalked her on numerous occasions, and refused to let her see her children. After four lengthy trials she finally won the right to access her kids again but she had to interact with her ex in order to do so. He killed her in front of her son. This is a really good post on what happened to Jasmine and why the “Swedish model” is so harmful to sex working women and their families: The Bloody State Gave Him The Power: A Swedish Sex Worker’s Murder.
  • The French Senate Select Committee have recently voted criminalisation of clients out of the bill that will be presented to the French Senate. I hope that other countries follow suit and reject the failed “Swedish model” and follow the lead of New Zealand and New South Wales in adopting the only human rights based approach to sex work: full decriminalisation.

Naturism and public nudity

Pandora Blake - art nude in ivy. Photo by Paul Crusier

I am basically a naturist at heart. One of my favourite things to do in London is visit Rio’s, the nudist sauna in Kentish Town. Sitting with friends in the hot tub, chatting with a random cross-section of other Londoners in a completely diverse, body-positive environment. Working up a sweat in a the sauna, then taking a skinny dip in the plunge pool to cool down. If it’s nice out, naked sunbathing in the garden with a cuppa tea and a biscuit – and even better, the tea and biscuits are free.

I love fetish clubs not only because of the handy dungeon furniture, cool outfits and interesting people, but because they are one of the few nightclubs where I’m allowed to indulge myself and get naked when I start getting hot and sweaty on the dancefloor. The other weekend Ivy and I enjoyed a topless dance at Club Decadence and the grins on our faces told the whole story. It’s not just about feeling sexy or getting attention – although I’d be lying ifI claimed that wasn’t at least part of it. But it’s mostly about the liberated feeling of being able to enjoy my body without shame, without being told to cover up, to “put it away”.

Last week I had a new experience: my first trip to a naturist club. This particular one was like a small village of chalets and cottages surrounded by little gardens, mostly occupied by retired hippies, with a clubhouse, swimming pool and communal lawns in the middle, including a kids’ playground. I didn’t realise it when we were planning the trip, but it happened to be the place fellow spanking blogger Fred is staying at the moment, so I got the insider tour complete with gossip and secluded little pathways (although we missed the naked beekeepers). There is something so freeing about walking around outdoors wearing only a pair of flipflops, feeling the sun and the wind on your skin, naked sunbathing and swimming. On a nice warm day in summer, that is. I imagine it’s less fun during the winter.

Pandora Blake - nude body art at summer solstice

I recently had a little midsummer party at my house and at one point (no idea how that happened) I ended up totally nude with everyone drawing on me with washable markers. I started it – actually thinking back, I believe I announced that everyone had to sign my body, much in the manner of a bossy child.

For some reason nudity just feels right at festivals like the solstice. I was delighted when I glimpsed one of my guests – a certain Seani – indulging in some solo naturism in the garden under cover of darkness. I joined him briefly, but it was chilly out there at 3am.

When a group of us went back outside for a ritual after the sun had risen, we were all fully dressed. My garden is overlooked and I don’t want neighbours to start phoning the police and complaining about public indecency.

Seani Love naked in Pandora Blake's garden at summer solstice

That’s the thing – in the UK, nudity (or even toplessness, if you’re female) is illegal in public, and “public” includes private property if it is visible to others. Indoor private spaces are fine, and outdoor private spaces are fine if no-one can see you – like the high-walled city garden at Rio’s, or a five-acre privately owned space like the naturist club. But most people in the crowded UK can’t afford gardens like that – or if we can, the necessary high walls mean they barely get any sun – and so outdoor nudity is a risky business.

It’s not only the risk of being caught. Consent is important. My whole lifestyle pushes against the edges of social acceptability, all the time -as a queer, a pervert, a relationship anarchist, a pornographer, a sex worker. I’m constantly trying to judge when I should do what I want (if my kissing a woman in public makes you uncomfortable then you can fuck off and take your homophobia with you) and when I should be discreet (if you’d rather I didn’t talk about sex in front of your kid/boss/vanilla friend, well, that’s fair enough).

The way I see it, if you have voluntarily entered a body-positive, sex-positive or kink-positive space, that implies consent to be exposed to a certain amount of bodies, sex or kink. However, if you are simply going about your business in public, you have not consented to be exposed to those things. Generally speaking, I want to be polite to strangers I pass in the street, and not make them uncomfortable by being overtly kinky, sexy or naked in front of them. When someone’s taking their kids to school or just trying to get home from work I it would be the height of rudeness for me to intrude on their boundaries by being overtly sexual in public.

Even within naturist spaces, there are boundaries. The outdoor nudist club had a posters up at reception saying “no overt sexuality”, and if you just want to hang out and be naked at Rio’s, you’re continually having to defend your space against guys trying ineptly to sex it up. Whether being naked is innately sexual or not is a hugely messy question, and even for naturists the lines are often blurred.

So it’s a conundrum. I wish public nudity was more acceptable in our culture, and that exposed flesh wasn’t interpreted as being inherently sexualised. But I also have to live in this society and not be an ass, so since nudity isn’t generally acceptable I don’t want to be totally selfish about it and make people uncomfortable.

This is my big theme at the moment as a gender and sexuality activist – those little judgements we constantly make about the comfort levels of others. If you are made uncomfortable by gender non-conformism I don’t feel the need to take your comfort into account, but if you are made uncomfortable by displays of public kink, well, maybe that’s fair enough, you know? I don’t want to indulge in sexy or kinky behaviour in front of you unless you’ve consented. Everyone draws that line in a different place and I get it wrong more often than I like. But when you live on the edge, making choices – and art – that seek to expand the boundaries of social acceptability, it sort of comes with the territory.

When D and I laid out blankets in my garden for a blissful afternoon nap in the sun, we carefully covered up the areas of our bodies deemed unacceptable for public exposure by society and the law. That’s just the way it has to be. I’d rather sunbathe naked, but it is what it is.

And then a campaign like #FreetheNipple comes along, demonstrating how arbitrary, sexist and ludicrous the taboo against female nipples is, and I remember that it doesn’t have to be this way. In some countries female toplessness is perfectly legal, nudist beaches and baths are common. Cultural mores are not carved in stone. Perhaps legalising female toplessness is within our grasp. Perhaps we can change this, after all.

href="">Free the Nipple campaign

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