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ErosBlog: The Sex Blog

Sex Blogging, Gratuitous Nudity, Kinky Sex, Sundry Sensuality
January 19th, 2017 -- by Bacchus

#Pornocalypse Comes To FetLife

It’s time for another timely reminder that the credit card companies are why we can’t have nice adult things online. Well, to be fair, I suppose it’s the credit card companies and their shadowy political masters. Like that makes it better?

Start with some background. This post is about FetLife, a famous social media platform for kinky people that (despite its reputation for having some serious flaws) leveraged its early-mover status into a lock on its market segment. FetLife is by all accounts the place for kinky people to congregate online.

You’ve never seen much on ErosBlog about FetLife or about the goings-on there, because nothing that happens on Fetlife is visible on the open web. You have to join up and be logged in to see anything there, which makes the site not part of the internet as far as I’m concerned. As I explained more than seven years ago:

When I’m blogging, I’m swimming in an ocean of material, trying not to drown in it. There’s more published every minute than I could read in a month — and that’s just on the “open” internet, the part where the links work for everyone and there aren’t any passwords or secret knocks.

By policy, I don’t even try to read or look at anything that’s friendslocked or passworded or semi-private. Anything like that is symbolically flagged “this is not for the whole world to see.” And I’m a blogger who can’t even manage to skim all the public stuff that’s out there. Why would I waste my time getting permission to look at controlled stuff, and then actually looking at that stuff, when I don’t even have time to look at all the open stuff that I need to see every day?

I conceptualize anything that’s behind an access control as being dead information, not part of the live internet and thus not part of my conceptual realm. I don’t have time for it and I don’t have room for it in my head. It might as well not exist for me, because knowing stuff I can’t blog about is only going to make my blogging life more difficult, never richer or easier.

It turns out there was a #Pornocalypse-inspired massacre at FetLife recently, with thousands of fetish categories deleted without notice and without (at first) any explanation. Violet Blue explains it this way:

Recent censorship enacted at FetLife is the result of financial discrimination by multiple credit card processors who have ceased business with FetLife for what the processors claim are “Illegal or Immoral” reasons. It began for users one week ago when FetLife announced changes to content guidelines, stating “We can no longer allow FetLifers to publicly share sexual pics and vids containing blood visible in them.” Then without warning, Fetlife deleted hundreds of groups and literally thousands of fetish categories that represented a range of kinky communities (like ones with hypnosis, blood, and humiliation in the name). This was in response to to significant pressure from FetLife’s credit card processor.

Although I try to reserve the word “censorship” for situations when the government attacks our speech freedoms, it’s not clear that Violet’s word choice isn’t correct in this case. The lame explanations allegedly provided by the credit card company to FetLife’s processing bank have the stench of Operation Choke Point about them. That’s the secretive program run by the US Department of Justice to deny banking services to (among others) adult businesses. Although Operation Choke Point was supposed to have been officially terminated in 2015, there’s serious reason to doubt that it ever actually stopped.

Among those reasons, I now feel that we have to include FetLife’s current banking difficulties. FetLife has finally gotten around to posting an explanation for its members, and someone has helpfully schlepped it out onto the open internet where we can see it:


That’s just the first part; there’s more.

FetLife received the same sort of vague and conflicting excuses from its card processor that the victims of Operation Choke Point typically reported hearing. I’m not sure how far we should credit the story of Operation Choke Point’s alleged demise.

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January 18th, 2017 -- by Bacchus

Pegging The Marines

This article from Playboy a few years back is about a sex worker who noticed a trend: among her clients who were military men, more than usual wanted to be pegged.

To my surprise, many of my sensual massage clients were military men passing through L.A. from San Diego, 29 Palms and Fort Bragg and North Carolina. And it wasn’t just their profession that they had in common, it was what they were requesting: They wanted me to “peg” them, i.e., fuck them with a strap-on.

My regular, Curtis was a Blonde Marine with a farmer’s tan, silver blue eyes and a distant stare. The first time I saw him, he booked a two-hour session and wanted me to fuck him in the butt.

The author speculates (somewhat pointlessly, as even she admits) about why that might be so. She thinks it’s about trauma, but she knows she doesn’t know. An interesting read!

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January 17th, 2017 -- by Bacchus

Nude On A Trampoline: Marilyn Monroe

January 16th, 2017 -- by Bacchus

Centurians (Not “Centurions”) Of Rome

centurians-of-rome whipping scene

Have you heard of the epic 1980s gay porno called Centurians of Rome? (There was a lot of cocaine involved, which may explain why the publicity team never figured out how to spell “Centurions” properly.)

There were also a few bags of money involved, that fell (with help) off an armored car. It’s quite a story, recounted here in loving detail: Centurians of Rome (1981): What Really Happened? Thanks are due to The Rialto Report.

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January 15th, 2017 -- by Bacchus

A Cunt Out Of Fashion

Here’s another fine verse from the hard-to-find Robert Burns volume The Merry Muses of Caledonia:

Nae Hair On’t

Yestreen I wed a lady fair,
An ye wad believe me,
On her cunt there growes nae hair,
That’s the thing that grieves me.

It vexed me sair, it plagued me sair,
It put me in a passion,
To think that I haed wad a wife,
Whase cunt was oot o fashion.

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January 14th, 2017 -- by Bacchus

Noveltrove Erotic Stories

Since long before the invention of the web, people have been using the internet to collect and distribute erotic stories. I’ve linked for many years to some of these collections, including at least one that has its roots in those pre-web Usenet days. Erotic story collections are usually free, the authors are usually unpaid, and the best of the collections are curated in some way for quality. What’s more, you tend to get more diversity of subject matter when people are writing for the love of their own particular fetishes. (Commercial erotica, for all its pleasures, tends to hew to a much narrower set of topics and story lines.) For all these reasons, I have loved this kind of adult story collections since forever.

Today I’m pleased to have learned about, which is an erotic stories community featuring not just sexy prose, but also author pages and a forum where authors and readers can hang out and discuss the stories. It’s both free-to-use and free of advertising:

novel trove screenshot

And what about the stories themselves? The half-dozen stories I’ve dipped into so far have been well-executed and, shall we say, sufficiently erotic. Here’s an example from Time To Play A Game, a light-hearted husband/wife scenario in which they play a trivia game and the loser has to do anything the winner wants for 24 hours. She’s used to winning, but this time, she did not win, and so now, for the first time, it’s her turn to do what she’s told:

“Jason, I told you. I can’t call in sick today.”

“I’m not asking you to call in sick. I mean, if you could and if you wanted to then that would be fine. But if you can’t, you can’t. All I’m asking you to do is to wear the pearl panties. You can take any precautions you need to so you don’t get fired or anything. Just wear the panties all day.”

“And that’s it?”

“That’s it.”

I raise my eyebrows and take a sip of my coffee and start heading over to the bathroom. This ought to be easy enough. I slip the lace up over my hips and pull the pearl strand under to the back to tie it into place.

Oh. My. God.

Even before I finish tying the ridiculous bow in the back, the pearls work their way across my opening and graze against my clit. This is not going to be as easy as I thought.

I pull my pants back up. Every movement tugs on that strand of pearls. Each step stimulates my clit as the pearls make their way between my lips. The folds of my pussy swell and blossom under the gentle stimulation.

Oh, damn.

I walk back out of the bathroom. Jason is wearing the largest smile I have ever seen, holding out my coffee mug.

“I don’t know if I can do this,” I mutter.

There doesn’t seem to be a good way to walk. No way to decrease the pearls’ effects on my clit. I’m dripping relentlessly. My core aches for more. Even my nipples become harder and graze against the smooth silk of my bra.

“No trying to get out of this, now.”

“No. I’m not trying to get out of this. I just don’t know if I can walk around work all day like this.” My breathing is falling out of control. I grab onto his broad shoulders as the pearls shiver against my clit. “I just think tomorrow might be a better day for this. That’s all.”

There are more than a thousand stories in almost thirty categories from “anal” to “voyeur”. Lots to enjoy!


January 13th, 2017 -- by Bacchus

A Show Of Stockings