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Porn Film Festival Berlin – first day of screenings

Violet Blue was kind enough to link to my last post about the Porn Film Festival Berlin. I kept notes throughout the next four days of the festival, but didn’t have time to post anything until I got back. The following was written last Thursday evening in Berlin, after midnight.

Oh my god, where to start? I can’t believe I’ve only been here for a day. Including shorts I’ve seen fourteen films today – I’ve never consumed this much media in one go before. Every spare minute in between has been spent talking, processing, connecting with people. The scarcity of tickets not only makes the films seem more valuable, but having limited time to chat to people in between makes every conversation significant – and really forces you to be efficient. I didn’t want to waste a single second in the film-makers lounge on small talk. Give me shop talk, gossip and analysis every time.

Fucking Different XXY

Thursday at 11am I sat down to watch Fucking Different XXY, a collection of 7 short documentaries on trans and queer sexualities by different producers/directors. Mostly, they focus on the stories of transwomen.

We started with an Arabic sex worker talking articulately about the difficulties she faced growing up different – including a powerful segment where she went back to her hometown, wearing full face veil so she wouldn’t be recognised. We went on to a queer live music video; the story of the Clit Club, New York’s top lesbian club for ten years; two trans female sex workers talking about their lives and sexualities; and a film about a female client attending a BDSM session, with two actors playing the sex worker – one transwoman and one transman. There was a piece of docu-portraiture which showed four people of varying gender identities talking about their relationships with their own bodies, genders and genitals. Finally, we finished with another docu-portrait, this time introducing a transgendered survival street sex worker in Canada who is a poet, activist, and instantly engaging – you can’t help but laugh along with her.

Fucking Different XXY was funny, uplifting, normalising and powerful. I’d recommend it.

Momentum and A Call for Help

I met Morgana Muses just before the screening of ‘A Call For Help’, her collaboration with Anna Brownfield about mature female sexuality, particularly focussing on women over 50. The film shows a series of entertaining vignettes, all heterosexual, including a couple’s romantic evening in, a pro-domme and her clients, and a quickie with a mechanic in the back seat of a car. The whole thing is brought together with a funny storyline about how one woman creatively solves her inability to orgasm – with a little help from her friends.

A Call For Help by Morgana Muses and Anna Brownfield

I definitely agree that the representation of women over fifty in porn, even feminist porn, is severely lacking, and often problematic. Diversity of representation covers age as well as everything else.

I’m proud of the mature performers I’ve worked with for Dreams of Spanking – so far I’ve found performers in this age range to be relaxed, confident, capable, and clear on their own tastes and boundaries. I think many producers would benefit from being more age-diverse, and I’m glad to see Morgana tackling this topic in her own style.

Morgana Muses at the Porn Film Festival Berlin
Morgana giving a Q&A about her film ‘A Call for Help’

Next, I watched another Australian feminist porn film in a very different style: ‘Momentum’ by Michelle Flynn. Michelle’s work is characterised by shockingly beautiful cinematography – which can be intimidating to a n00b filmmaker like me. The intro to ‘Momentum’ is gorgeously shot and composed, and perfectly sets the tone for the rest of the film.

We see two sex scenes: one boy/girl and one girl/girl. The straight scene is a real life couple, Kara and Devon, whom I recognised from Ms Naughty’s site Bright Desire. They give compelling performances – Kara in particular is smoking hot, and the sex feels affectionate, believable and real, without any of the artificial pacing that often burdens M/F sex in mainstream porn. Likewise, the lesbian scene starring ChloeB and Kenji (I think) was hot, authentic and relateable. I felt like it was sex I had had, or would love to have.

The whole thing is filmed in sundrenched, everyday settings with gorgeous natural light. I loved the laughter, the candid moments, live negotiation and unplanned awkwardness – like when Devon came sooner than he intended, and when one of the lesbians caught her hair on something. This film was definitely horny for me.

Momentum by Michelle Flynn at the Porn Film Festival Berlin

If I had a criticism, it was that the integration of the cinematic intro and the more continuous, real-time sex scenes was a little off; the pace switched from one to the other in a way that felt a bit disjointed. It would also have been good if the intro developed the characters in a way that was relevant to their sex scenes; we got a lovely sense of atmosphere, but not much in terms of identity, explanation or significance of the sex that followed. But I’m being picky only because ‘Momentum’ raised my expectations. Thinking about these things was a good learning experience for me, in terms of how to pace porn narratives in a way that works on the big screen.

Sexy Money at the Porn Film Festival Berlin

At the end of ‘Momentum’ I noticed my stomach rumbling and realised my last meal had been the day before, in England, before I got on the plane. I had a ticket to ‘Sexy Money’, a film about Nigerian sex workers which I really wanted to see, but I had to skip it and have lunch instead.

While I was eating, I was entertained by live lapdance performances. I fucking love this festival.



Over lunch I chatted to Cheyenne Picardo, the director of Remedy, whom I met at the Feminist Porn Awards in April. This time she was screening three minute short called ‘Timewasters’, which I made sure I watched. It’s a hilarious take on the mundane and absurd side of sex work, featuring visuals of pro-dommes eating doughnuts between sessions while voiceovers read the most ridiculous emails they ever got from clients who never showed.

Timewasters by Cheyenne PicardoTimewasters by Cheyenne Picardo


Next up was ‘Pulsion’ by Ovidie – again, someone whose work I was introduced to in Toronto. This cinematic feature film is an engaging, satirical sex comedy about a women with Persistant Genital Arousal Disorder, capably played by Emy Russo. She gets sent to a sex therapy clinic for a week where she is surrounded by people with various sexual differences, from fetishists to asexuals, compulsive voyeurs to narcissists. The handling of sexual diversity and dysfunction is light, witty and positive, and overall the film invites the viewer to question where healthy sexual difference ends and unhealthy dysfunction begins.

Pulsion by feminist porn director Ovidie

I was impressed. This feels like a high-budget feature, shot in a cinematic style that makes the sex scenes as beautiful as the dialogue – even though the former was improvised and the latter scripted. By the time each sex scene occurs you really know the characters, and why this event is significant for them – and you’re rooting for them. All the sex in ‘Pulsion’ adds to character development, and all of it is witty and watchable – not to mention wankable. It’s well-written, with a love story that doesn’t feel saccharine, and a twist at the end. This is a porn film I would show my parents, and yes, that is a compliment – a big one. For me this was the highlight of the festival so far.

Queer Porn Shorts

After dinner I was thinking of going to bed, or perhaps just getting a drink in the bar, but instead I was persuaded to use my ticket for the Queer Porn Shorts rather than adding it to my skip pile. This was a long screening for the last of the night, with nine short films. Themes ranged from body hair to body part studies, feminist tentacle porn to fisting, banana blowjobs to BDSM, gender-bending, seashells and cybersex. This was the screening that really made me appreciate the diversity of the Porn Film Festival Berlin. I watched the curators welcome all film-makers to the stage with equal enthusiasm – no matter their budget, topic or experience. This was the screening that made me realise I was in the right place. The Porn Film Festival Berlin is home.

My favourite queer porn shorts were the last two: ‘Biodildo 2′ by Christian Slaughter, an amazingly pansexual foursome film that is beautiful, heart-warming and hot. It follows two apparently straight couples who turn out to be so much more, with an all-star cast of Jiz Lee, Wolf Hudson, KAy Garnellen (who was also in Fucking Different XXY) and Mor Vidal. I loved it.

The night ended with the scene I’d most been looking forward to seeing – ‘Heart Throb Marathon’, the threesome between Zahra Stardust, Wolf Hudson and James Darling which was filmed in Toronto after the FPA. It was every bit as hot as I’d hoped. I loved the intro, with Zahra calling room service and requesting not one, but two male companions for the evening. I loved James’ opening line as he met Wolf in the hotel corridor – “What, you again?” – which was particularly funny given we’d just watched Wolf in the previous film. But the most wankable moment for me was not, as I’d expected, the infamous double fisting of Zahra by Wolf and James, but when Zahra facefucked Wolf with her feet. Her playful dominance and his willing submission made me melt. That boy has a talented mouth.

And what about me? Well, I’ve learned a lot. I’ve broken through my unhelpfully competitive urge to compare my work with everything I see, and started feeling inspired, drinking in knowledge and learning what works well on the big screen. I love the egalitarianism of this festival, no one style of film privileged over any other, no cliqueness; new filmmakers warmly welcomed no matter what box you tick, with cinematic and gonzo, straight and queer, trans and cis, funny and serious all mixed up together. It does my heart proud.

I’m simultaneously frustrated not to be showing more of my own work, and glad to have this learning opportunity before I decide what to submit. I’ve got a film screening thanks to my collaborator Ms Naughty being organised enough to get it sent on time – but I also have five days to absorb, reflect and think about what films of mine will fit best, and how to edit them for a festival context.

In conclusion: I love the international porn community. I love Berlin. And I wish it was acceptable to wank in the cinema.

Dark Chocolate Mousse with Doxy Massager

The people at Doxy Massager recently invited me to participate in a fun video challenge. The aim is to read a recipe while using a Doxy – but the only thing the camera can see is your face.

I have to admit, I’m not the biggest fan of vibrating toys, but I was happy to give it a try – and when my very own Doxy arrived and it was purple, I started to feel excited. Before shooting this I did a first take over knickers, just in case it was too intense. It was enjoyable, but I decided to re-record the whole thing and give it a go without knickers. I honestly wasn’t prepared for the effect it had.

Even Nigella Lawson doesn’t enjoy making dark chocolate mousse this much.

Post sponsored by Doxy Massager.

Landing in Berlin

I should know by now that my moods have ups and downs. After my feeling of euphoria as I left the UK, I landed in Berlin with a bit of a bump.

The festival organisers had very kindly arranged accommodation for me at someone’s house near the cinema, but unfortunately they wouldn’t be there to let me in when I arrived, so I had to go from the airport straight to the cinema. I navigated the public transport and the streets on my own with my two little suitcases (since the Ryanair baggage weight allowance is so small, I couldn’t put it all in one big one). A few hours ago I’d been congratulating myself on my thoughtful packing – now I was cursing myself for not travelling light. I stopped at the airport for a coffee to write down the street address and directions of where I was going, but I didn’t draw a map of the way from the subway station, so I struck out at random in the rain and happened upon it by sheer luck. I felt totally stupid for not being able to ask directions in German.

So I arrived at the cinema straight off the plane, damp and sweaty and tired, in desperate need of a shower, a change of clothes, and a cup of tea. Instead I was immediately plunged into the busiest part of the festival, and had to leave my suitcases in a corner and change my top in the public toilets.

I put a bit of makeup on and sat around the cinema lounge with a cola. I was hoping I’d bump into someone I knew, but there weren’t any familiar faces – and I didn’t even know if anyone spoke English. I wanted to go to bed, but my host wasn’t going to be home until after midnight. Added to all this I was on the first day of my period, so my body’s natural response to all this was amplified and I was a bit emo mess. I was starting to feel anxious about not knowing what was happening the following day. I don’t like not having a plan. Trying to stay calm, I hunkered down and retreated inwards. It turns out I’m only an extrovert when I’m in control.

Someone asked me if I had a ticket to the opening screening that night. I didn’t realise I needed tickets! I got one, and flicked through my programme.

In my current state of mind, this was perhaps not the best idea. I was immediately inundated by all the feels. Part of me was happy to be included. Look, there was my name, in the Female Porn shorts section! And my butt!

But in my emotional state, I also felt irrationally jealous of all the people showing feature films, and scared that my solo hotel-room short wouldn’t measure up in terms of production values. Seeing the amazing work on offer, I felt increasingly intimidated and out of my depth.

I was also feeling felt frustrated that although I’ve been producing films for five years and distributing them – profitably – for three, I can’t seem to carve out the time I need to edit screenable versions of my films. Instructed is only here because Ms Naughty took the time to edit a tight version of it and send it off before the deadline. None of the other films of Dreams of Spanking are being screened because I know they are too slow to screen well without editing, and I haven’t had time to re-cut them yet.

Still, as I read the programme, I began to get a sense of the variety on show – far more than at the Feminist Porn Awards. I began to realise that with a little work, plenty of my films might be eligible. I just need to make the time to cut them down to a screenable length.

I’d barely had time to finish this thought process when it was time for the opening film: R100, a dark, twisted, funny Japanese sex comedy that is jokingly rated “ages 100 and over”. This is, however, a fair indication of how fucked-up it is. The film is about an S&M contract that goes horribly, horribly wrong. R100 breaks boundaries. The protagonist’s. Society’s. Ours. It is, in fact, totally fucked up. It’s not just boundaries that are broken, either, but the fourth wall, tension, and all the rules about narrative and filmmaking. The film flicks between realism and surrealism, between narrative and meta-narrative.

The way this film toys with tension is nothing short of masterful. Events escalate, and sequences of slow, suspenseful realism rachet up the tension. There are some moments that are straight out of a horror film, with shadow lighting and shaky camerawork. Then, just as quickly, the tension is broken; the film will flick to a high speed car chase or glossy hi-octane montage where the ultraviolence, the fucked-upness, is styled out and seems less traumatic. Then it switches just as quickly back to gritty realness, and you realise with horror that they’re going to follow through on the traumatic things that just happened in realness mode. This is a film that loves to fuck with your expectations. They don’t follow through on the trauma – instead they do a different kind of fucked up traumatic thing, each one increasingly surreal, until you’ve left the world of real-life horror and entered a world of war imagery and Japanese demons.

It’s interesting, because the most horrific moment in the film is only about half way through. But as a narrative choice, it works, because once the most dreaded thing imaginable has happened, all the normal rules of escalation have been broken. After that, anything could happen. Literally anything. There are no rules. And then just as you’ve stepped off the edge of that cliff, the film breaks the fourth wall and suddenly, brilliantly, all the tension is relieved, and you feel like you can bear to keep watching; so when they dive back in to the story, they can push it and escalate and take it far further than you ever imagined. And then, at the end, suddenly it all comes together in a way that is simultaneously beautifully affirming and positive and makes sense of everything, and ridiculously satirical and absurd.

Amazing film. If you like twisted Japanese mindfucks you will love it. I want to show it to all my friends.

Afterwards I sat in the bar and got a glass of wine, and I did a brave thing: I went up to some people speaking English and asked them if they were filmmakers. And they were! It turned out they were a group called Four Chambers from the UK, making very interesting independent porn. Before I knew it, I was immersed in a conversation about collaboration, pair-editing and being a creative control freak. After that it all fell into place. I caught sight of Gala Vanting and went over to say hi, and within 5 minutes everyone I knew was there; Ms Naughty and Luke, Jennifer Lyon Bell and Annabelle Lee, Lucie Blush, and Jiz Lee, and Courtney Trouble, and I was talking talking talking and starting to realise that I might be able to cope after all.

I learned that you need to get a ticket for every film you want to see, and they only become available the day before. They’re free if you’re a filmmaker, but you still have to get them – even if it’s your own film. And they sell out. So I got a tickets for every session on Thursday. Each session has three films showing at once, so I had to make choices off the cuff. The guy in the queue behind me was like “You’re going to watch 12 hours of film?” and I blushed. I just wanted to make sure I had the option.

Then I saw something else in the programme I really wanted to see, and came back and got a ticket for that too. So now I had a spare ticket. Apparently you could hand them back in, and then they got handed out to people on the waiting list. While I was chatting to Lucie, someone came out and started calling the names on the list for the next film, distributing any unused tickets. This atmosphere – it was exciting! I realised that the system of scarcity would make me far more interested in seeing as many films as possible than if I had automatic entry to all of them without effort. The excitement was contagious.

Then my host arrived – well, the flatmate of my host – so I could finally land properly. She helped me with my bags, raising an eyebrow at me for needing two cases for five days (they are small cases, okay). The flat is super close to the cinema, and absolutely beautiful – a lovely high-ceilinged space full of bikes and pot plants and shared by four queer housemates. I felt instantly at home. I dumped my bags, took my meds, and jumped straight in the shower.

Now I’m clean, with brushed teeth, in my pyjamas, with wifi, and starting to feel more like myself. I spent a while catching up on internet things – I had a Dreams of Spanking photoset intended for this evening but I haven’t put it in the CMS yet, so I’ll have to leave that if for the morning. Meanwhile, I can have nine hours sleep in a quiet warm bed in a lovely safe house full of friendly, porn-loving women. Oh, Berlin. I am already starting to see the appeal.

Instructed in Berlin

I’m typing this at the airport, waiting for my flight to Berlin. I’ve had five hours sleep and I can’t believe I’ve actually made it this far and nothing’s gone wrong.

This is my third international trip this year and each time I feel like I’m getting away with something naughty. Like all self-employed business owners, I pay the price for time off in advance. All the work due while I’m away needs to be done ahead of time; plus I need to earn extra pennies to pay for the trip. I can’t imagine the ease of having paid leave – but then, nor can I imagine the frustration of not being in control of my own creative work. Overall it’s a trade-off I’m happy with. And after not being able to afford to take holiday for most of my twenties, it feels like an unimaginable luxury.

I don’t know if it was the sleep deprivation, but as I arrived at the airport I felt suffused with happiness. When I think of the lives lived by so many women worldwide less fortunate than me, I can’t believe the freedoms I enjoy – being able to express myself creatively and sexually, to travel, to be in control of my own life, earn a living doing what I love.

The Berlin Porn Festival is my next adventure – and I’m so excited! Whenever I’ve told any of my friends I’m going to Berlin, they have told me that it’s the best city, that I’m going to love it. It’s built my anticipation to a fever pitch. I didn’t know what to expect, so I’ve probably packed too much – clothes for warm weather and cold weather, for wind and rain, smart clothes, fetish clothes, and even DVDs of my film that will be screening – Instructed.

Instructed - female porn from Dreams of Spanking

I didn’t plan for this trip, and I didn’t even decide to go until I found out that Instructed was screening – the film I made in Toronto with feminist porn pioneer Ms Naughty. As soon as I learned that it would be shown in Berlin, I knew I had to go. So far, my films have been screened at two festivals (Bikesmut and Cinekink – both in the US), and I couldn’t get to either. By contrast the Berlin Porn Film Festival is practically next door. This time, I had no excuse.

Instructed is an interesting first film to see screened in public, for two reasons. Firstly, my content share with Ms Naughty permitted us both to edit our own versions of the footage, so that we could each offer exclusive content to our members. But we co-directed it, and the two edits turned out surprisingly similar – it seems we had a pretty coherent vision. So I’ll be watching my film, but not my editing choices, which will perhaps give me a bit of pleasant distance. Film-maker anxiety might be a bit much to process given it will also be the first time I’ve seen myself as a performer on the big screen.

Which brings me to the second reason – this is the most sexually explicit film I have ever made. It’s still a new thing for me to publish a film online that includes a close-up shot of my cunt as I touch myself. The internet is quite different from a cinema full of people. I am still not sure how I feel about the idea of watching high definition video of myself on the big screen, inserting a buttplug and masturbating to orgasm.

Instructed - female porn from Dreams of Spanking

As I said on Dreams of Spanking, this is going to be a baptism of fire. It’s definitely one of those seminal moments in the life of a pornographer.

The thing that makes me proud of this film, and like maybe I won’t have to hide behind my programme, is that my partner D also contributed. It was his written instructions that I trustingly followed on camera – without knowing in advance what he had written – and it’s his voice that accompanies the film as voiceover, telling my on-screen self what to do. My relationship with this film is still one of wonder and admiration that my boyfriend would go to such lengths to support my career and be part of my creative process. When I imagine myself watching it, I’m not blushing at the sight of my own cunt displayed the size of a cinema screen, but at the knowledge that despite my tendency to gallivant across the planet to hang out with pornographers, he loves me enough to find a way to get involved.

When we shot Instructed, I felt as if D was reaching across the ocean to wrap me in the glow of his loving dominance. Now I come to watch it on the big screen for the first time, we’re separated by distance again – and it’s comforting to know that his words, and his voice, will be part of the experience nonetheless.

My muse is a sadist

I’m waiting for some audio files to export, so I have a rare few minutes minutes to quickly update this blog.

Life is good. My energy levels are up and down. For ten days I could barely get out of bed in the morning, and staggering to the kitchen and back to make tea seemed like a colossal effort. I was doing everything through a fog, work was a struggle and I neglected the housework. I was sleeping eight, nine, ten hours a night.

Then last week – perhaps an inevitable swing, or perhaps the result of the accumulating stress of knowing how much work was mounting up – something shifted. I was hanging up laundry after a night of less sleep than usual and something happened in my brain. I thought I’d been planning out a blogpost, but then it seemed like it might be a series. I mentally stepped back and looked at the idea that had landed, trying to hold the whole thing in my mind at once. I couldn’t be sure, but it might – perhaps – be a book. I finished hanging up clothes, sat at my computer, ignoring the urgent work I should have been doing, and hastily started to write down notes as succinctly as possible. An hour later I had a 2000 word synopsis for a complete work of non-fiction, which had seemingly arrived in its entirety in my brain. My whole head was fizzing with it. I felt like if I could only make time, I could write the whole book out there and then.

My experience of inspiration has always been that it’s born of frustration. I get ideas when I am meant to be doing other things; when stress has stimulated adrenaline to course through my body, when I’m already using my mind to focus on a difficult task. That’s when the film script, the new business idea, the creative project, the essay arrive, when you can’t do anything with them. I note them down, file them, and they get added to the to do list. I never have a shortage of ideas, but I rarely get to work on things when I’m still fired up with excitement about them. By the time I’ve carved out time to make my idea happen, it’s no longer inspiration – it’s now work like any other.

Now is not the time for me to write a book. I’m about to start the process of launching a new business with Nimue. I have client work stacked up higher than my head, two European trips in the next four weeks alone, and two US trips in the first quarter of 2015. I need to earn money to get the new business up and running (so yeah, if anyone wants to invest some start-up capital, email me – I’ll turn you a profit) and, specifically, this week I am editing a custom feature film I’ve produced for a private customer, so I’m already losing sleep.

It’s weird how these things work, though. If I had three months with nothing to do except write a book, would I write it? I suspect not. Being busy is what prevents me procrastinating; procrastinating is what makes work appealing, what drives the creative process, if it’s not the work I’m meant to be doing right now, but still work that needs doing. My whole lifestyle turns on structured procrastination. The 2000 words are now 8000 and I think this book is going to get written over the next 6 months, in evenings and weekends, and I think the frustration of not having enough time for it, the burning enthusiasm to work on it when I can’t, is what’s going to get me out of bed in the morning over the winter.

Meanwhile, I’ve had five hours sleep every night this week and I’ve edited a feature film in three days. I’m even happy with it. Not bad. I wish I could rest on my laurels after delivering it tomorrow, but I have to edit a film for Dreams of Spanking still before Saturday, and I want to produce more DVDs to sell at the World Spain Party which Nimue and I are going to next week, so, you know, life is going to be interesting for a little while yet.

I’m not complaining. I’m starting to understand and accept the way I work. These mad energy cycles, these seemingly uncontrolled ups and downs – they drive the whole creative process. It’s sometimes overwhelming, and often exhausting, but if the alternative is letting these ideas eat away at me and never, ever making any of them happen, I’ll choose the sleep deprivation, thanks.

It feels like it’s the same engine that powers my kink. Perhaps it’s an adrenaline addiction; perhaps I simply love the rollercoaster of excitement, nerves and achievement. Whether I’m anticipating a severe caning, psyching myself up for it, focussing and getting through it, and feeling proud of myself afterwards – or going through a remarkably similar process with an intimidating creative project – it’s the thrill of pushing myself to my limits that makes me feel alive. We masochists are often our own worst self-sadists, after all.

I wish I could share this film I’m working on with you, but it’s a private commission, so I’m afraid I can’t. Here are some new online things I enjoyed doing instead:

It Girl. Rag Doll episode #33 has a new podcast featuring yours truly, chatting to Harper Eliot and Molly Moore about spanking, feminist porn and much, much more. Click to listen!

The Clone’s Training is the new film on Dreams of Spanking, and it’s a good ‘un. If you like spanking stories with an extra dimension or three, psychological drama, sci-fi settings and dark, twisted reasons for punishment, this will be right up your alley. This is possibly the most complex plot of any spanking film ever, and it was also the scene which made me realise that David Weston can really act. Judicial canings! Military drilling! Medical inspections! Full frontal nudity! Really, do you need more reasons to watch it?

The Clones Training: sci-fi porn at Dreams of Spanking

As for the other projects, I’ll keep you updated as things progress…

Elust #62 – Smart, sexy blogs

Super sexy!
Photo courtesy of Bawdy Bloke

Welcome to Elust #62 -

The only place where the most smart, sexy bloggers are featured under one roof every month. Whether you’re looking for sex journalism, erotic writing, relationship advice or kinky discussions it’ll be here at Elust. Want to be included in Elust #63? Start with the rules, come back October 1st to submit something and subscribe to the RSS feed for updates!

~ This Month’s Top Three Posts ~

Sex Blogger Life: Real Talk

Selfies, Shame and Safety

‘Dress me like a slut and punish my cock’

~ Featured Post (Molly’s Picks) ~

I live in a sex-positive bubble.

Wicked Wednesday: Silent Memories


~ Readers Choice from Sexbytes ~

*You really should consider adding your popular posts here too*
Are you guilty of slut-shaming sex doll lovers?

All blogs that have a submission in this edition must re-post this digest from tip-to-toe on their blogs within 7 days. Re-posting the photo is optional and the use of the “read more…” tag is allowable after this point. Thank you, and enjoy!


Writing About Writing

Why can’t I write gay erotica?!
Cream doesn’t rise: the state of UK erotica
Coming clean about writing dirty…
The Big Book of Submission: 69 Kinky Tales

Erotic Non-Fiction

I’ve Collared Myself a Human Pony
Strapped Back In
View From The Bridal Suite
It’s a date (2/2)
Your Tears Make Me Wet.
Spanking – the ultimate mood changer

Thoughts & Advice on Sex & Relationships

Yes, I am a slut. So?
M feels that labeling myself “gay” erases him
“Appearance Not Important”
Traditional sexual consent vs bdsm consent
Bigger Doesn’t Mean Better!
All in One Person: Thoughts on Non-Monogamy
I Lust, Therefore I Am
Buddhism and Poly
The Great Outdoors
My Love Is Not About You #SameSexCouples
Thinking of You
Tantra Massage For Multiple Male Orgasm


Blogging: My Layout Pet Peeves
An Unpleasant Outing

Erotic Fiction

The Flight Attendant’s Return Home…
Kinky Cocktail Story Time: The Jelly Bean
Spanked Silent

Sex News, Opinion, Interviews, Politics & Humor

Quantification of Everything (Especially Sex)
Polyphobia – The New Homophobia


Thoughts and Advice on Kink and Fetish

For Submissives.
Protocols. I Want.
When You Can’t Trust Your Body
Masters Guilt
BDSM Is Not (the only) Kink


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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.

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